Magnum Opus
The best of my work is behind me
Burning in a pile
of what was
The best to come still lies ahead
Misplaced,
or maybe never placed at all
The best of now
leaves from my finger tips
it lines the palms of my hands
and resides under my nails
like dirt that you just can’t wash off
2 thoughts on "Magnum Opus"
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Love the way you landed this poem “like dirt that you just can’t wash off”
This is an accurate description of how I feel as I repair cars and pieces of poems flit across my mind but my hands are too dirty to write it down.