on one hand
is one who said
he'd understand
he didn't
on the other hand
is a busy whirlwind
that blinds my sight
and hides what's right
in the middle
is my heart
open and uncovered
too many times
if i pull one hand away
i'll lose all hopes
of seeing the sun
if i keep one hand out
will all the shouting stop
or will it break free
if i try to keep pace
with what i think is true
is it truly me anymore
let me climb
the highest part of
the hill
wait until it's still
then push
who knows
maybe i'll fly
(nigh)
It's been a while, how've you been?
ReplyDelete"on one hand, no more death"
I hope that is not the answer to my question, that is, not the literal answer. The poems work fine as the literary answer, however. Perhaps mere odes to old 2021?
I've no doubt you can fly - angels have wings.
TStreet
i'm ok
Deletethings are different in the real world. it's going to take some time to recalibrate, but when i do, i'll have more time to sit by the water and wave words
are you writing
Not writing other than a couple of re-writes; melancholia?, depression?, isolation?, a lack of inspiration? 2021 had it's moments, but mostly seemed merely times passing . . .
ReplyDeleteI do miss G+, and the daily interactions. Happy days, happy days