One doesn't simply shrug, conclude the danger's
Passed, and skip away. One always worries
That it's there, and, as he grasps for reassurance,
Swears he's found its signs nearby: the heart's
Begun to beat too quickly, light reflected flashes
Like those pulses which weren't seen, but felt,
And panic overflows the dam he built, and it
Submerges him. He looks again. There's nothing
Wrong. He dries himself, and wills the reappearance
Of some sense of calm. The danger's passed.
He knows it has, but he can't skip away.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 79 times
Written on 2017-06-24 at 15:46

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ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo, Larry.