after the anthem of our youth was stringently sung
and the bell for all but the third round had rung
so many times turned over in the dark
seeking tears that had missed their mark
put your marbles in the jar with mine
collide and let the chips fall where they will
sharper yet and prettier still
collude with time to steal a notch from her belt
15 December 2010
14 December 2010
Not Quite a Year Later...
Well.
I received a birthday present which was supposed to be a trigger for me to start writing daily. So, when I was tired and listening to the rain, I took a stab at some prose.
Not a bad first step.
I am
wedged between a heart and sheer rock face
fettering my feet by lowering the anchor
willing a stillness in a soul
that struggles against being caged
I am
snagged between a cove and lofty precipice
stoppering my breath by beckoning the blackness
chancing a glance into the depths below
where the waves rage on unfamiliar shores
I received a birthday present which was supposed to be a trigger for me to start writing daily. So, when I was tired and listening to the rain, I took a stab at some prose.
Not a bad first step.
I am
wedged between a heart and sheer rock face
fettering my feet by lowering the anchor
willing a stillness in a soul
that struggles against being caged
I am
snagged between a cove and lofty precipice
stoppering my breath by beckoning the blackness
chancing a glance into the depths below
where the waves rage on unfamiliar shores
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