“I’m not sure what it is, life’s puzzle.” – Jim Harrison


Piecing together the jigsaw.

Neonatal ICU newborn son.

Asleep across my chest later.

Falling asleep in the car seat.

These are easy to piece together.

Over here the gaping chasm.

Pieces thrown away in desperation.

Dark accusations, jealousy.

Behind it all a growing insanity.

What should have been sadness

became a deep sigh of release

and I threw those black jigsaws

into the sky to be swallowed

by the black birds that circle.

The edge is always the easiest;

straight edge, a corner, no significance.

Over here the puzzle is blurry.

Memories lost over life’s stresses.

Too much forgotten like sandstone

they do not withstand the weight of life.

Now the beautiful part of the picture.

A new life, lasting love lit brightly.

A glass of red wine shared nightly.

Encouragement, poetry, laughing;

the pieces come together with ease.

The puzzle grows larger, beautiful.


I still don’t know what makes life.



This is part of “28 Days of Unreason”

based on prompts taken from poems

by Jim Harrison.




4 thoughts on “Jigsaw

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