Sucking My Spiritual Thumb
My inner gravel
creates shoals in time fading
down the moody slope
of my own stillness.
It's the tobacco smoking
in the far corner
that yellows the day.
Am I sacred or just scared,
that is the question
behind all attempts
I make at the mandala
getting shallowness
instead of that depth
we all know is still required
should we try to fly.
December 18, 2014 10:46 AM
This poem utilizes all nine words in the wordle offered by Irene on the Red Wolf Poems site.
Red Wolf
The leaps in imagery work so well and the title doesn't suck either.
ReplyDeleteyour inner gravel
ReplyDeletewaas coarse early on
but through years
and time
have worn the edges
till there is almost
no corseness to it
like river stones they glide
together
but it still sucks
having a gut full of rock
chris