Hello


Silly me in silence parked,
in inspiration locked,
a ground submission.

The world is a playground,
the world is a slaughter field.

Relieve and love, recoil and fear,
it is all real if you are.
Breadcrumbs and chalk
mark your winding ways
on your way to
just a little bit longer.

An interlude, a break,
an intention warm to the sky
with birds seeking shelter,
an honest hello.

This is I.




Poetry by Bob
Read 601 times
Written on 2011-05-17 at 21:19

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