Don't Look Here For Lines And Meters

Don’t Look Here for Lines and Meters

My poems are measured by the meter of the heart,
The rhythm of seasons.
If you count the lines between the spaces,
They probably won’t be even.

Perfection doesn’t ride on my lines.
My lines tangle like nerve jangles,
Are woven like a fisherman’s net.
The voice breaks with the weight of lead sinkers,

And iridescent scales shining in the sun.