The Bend

Was the water as fine a host as your story told? The global position as true? It has been some time, and I’ve navigated North somewhat, bring me back.

What shifting of the ground beneath your feet? What compromise refused? Oft’ the sands of time serve us, some act as cogs, and some as polish.

Seek with me a patient balance. Find the urgent, too. May it be our paths have merged, when this day ends, when ‘morrow comes.


Once I reach the top

I’d decided 

I’d trek another hill of sorts

I’d seek what ever shade was thrown

I’d not care of the noise or thorns or weeds

I’d stop to inspect flowers, picking up discarded things

Once I was discarded

The Measure

 Against what’s proper
And polished
We keep our eyes down these days
Having faith in only that we no longer have the strength
To see what isn’t there

Each day brings its journey
Down stairwells
Through thoroughfares
Around corners too dark
Up or out into the blue

Thankful for life around and within
Aren’t we
Wishing though
For stronger legs and for footsteps
Whose echo steadies hands