In The Midst Of Your Catastrophe

While caught up in your catastrophe/you find, once more, your fingers /as they clip new results from the water’s surface/they are your dreams that rise from the Ouija/of forests that lie only within you/the lilt of your voice,/over the crowd’s roar;/now you’re much older than before/you used up those unseen sunrises/but how could you know it/you, more than anyone else,/ want the fresh catch of a later day/it allows you to blink past/ foam that radiates from your center

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s