The box/pinprick hole by Renee Butner

April 17, 2021

a woman in a box

Pinprick hole

admits the light

as I shift

and fold in to myself

Shadows drift

around my body

Dust motes

dance

before my eyes

My outstretched fingers

close off the beam

of white

momentarily

and I

hover in complete

darkness

I scratch and

scrabble at the

miniscule opening

ripping and tearing

fingernails snapping off

until the gap

becomes

substantial enough

to accommodate

my outreached

arm

When not dipping chocolates or making pralines as an owner of Kilwins in Winston-Salem, Renee Butner spends her time writing poetry and haiku. She has been published in journals including Verse of Silence, Haiku Journal, NC Poetry in Plain Sight, Ariel Chart, Acta Victoriana, and she won second prize in Piedmont Plus Silver Games for her poem Silver Moments. Her poem Forest King earned a spot in the Highland Park Public Art Poetry Contest.Her website is http://www.reneebutner.wordpress.com

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