Peak

Pick up a pair of scissors Snip out all the hard clumps that we have formed Start with the best of intentions A steady hand Sharp edges Pointed tips clipping precisely But the strings only seem to multiply like worms You shine a light We hack away at your debris that has taken over the land In the end You have a pile of tatters Unsalvageable Seaweed washed up on the shore But in the spaces that have been created swirls a breeze Salty air that has travelled oceans to get here A window has opened The only view is of the sky