Thursday, December 27, 2012

Not Too Late


Oddly enough, considering yesterday's post of a new poem, this one from a couple years back has something of the same images, but it's winter now and was summer then...

Here I think of the way salmon might pair up and hang motionless.

Not Too Late

I came to rest on
the bottom, on the cool sand,
watched the bubbles rise,
small glimmering lights
reaching for the sun above
the ripples flashing
as I waved to hold
my place next to you, to your
still form, to my life.

July 14, 2010 4:56 PM

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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.


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