finding peace
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The grounds blurs in haste(more…)
—like an arrow leaves the bow—
the plane cannot stop.
The warmth of the sun
makes the sea a lot colder
and the shore lonely.
Mountains look as small
as the hand, at hand, in hand,
and still out of reach.
The forest beckons
the song of birds and insects
wont of longing.
Everything rushes
up close and everywhere near
at the journey’s end.
Stars in the night sky
that wishes and dreams weigh down
aa they crash and fall.
Like a glass of coldNa/GloPoWriMo Prompt
water washing down your throat,
that breath of relief.
A Christmas present
molded to what you wished for
yet to be unboxed.
Juggling promises
making them fit together
despite their conflicts.
The dark before dawn
devouring all vision and
depriving of hope.
Momentary joy
a reprieve before the storm,
the receding tides.
A game of chickenAuthor’s Notes
where we deny we’re playing
and neither shall win.
A game of chicken
where we deny we’re playing
and I do not win.
A game of chicken
where only I am playing,
I can’t ever win.
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