Source

 

Something 

about seeking a source

in the deep end

of a flailing life

means I’m not sure what

but if I could find it

I’d tie a rope

around its energy

and save myself

from drowning 

in wishes

instead of swimming

in the Poet’s possibility

Carry On

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Join me in sharing poems on Instagram

Wildfire

 

  Dreamed I lost you

& sneaked a peek at you

like when you were little

& me spooked in high winds

     Now my spooking

is crowds engulfing you

fueled by cruel winds

& you out of your element

    which maybe is earth

& I hope will keep you 

                   grounded 

Palettes

If I am green

maybe that explains

my tendency to retreat

preparing for seasons

of browns & charcoal