Quietly unwell, so here's a poem—
think of it as... hold music.
(with alwaysthanks to BeaverMag for its home & kind nomination)
think of it as... hold music.
(with alwaysthanks to BeaverMag for its home & kind nomination)
Comments
Feel better quickly.
(& I may or may not, but either way, poem)
I hope you feel better soon.
(& this particular cycle of ick seems to be heading toward lesser ickwards so far, for which I'm grateful)
Skin to write with a cutting edge
of a stick.
A sharp word left
A stone smoothed
Washed by the shores' constant rearrangement.
Come to find the shells of yesterday's wave.
Emotions leaving lines spread across the time worn stone.
The sand wiped clean of meaning by the waves.