/ Leave a Comment

by

 

Tendrils of time
hang loose
sloped
dampened a bit
by misconception recollections
the sorts of stories recounted in dreams
and spread like gospel bonfire.

I should not like to entwine
with those loose hung tendrils
of sticky time.

The reader brings his or her own experience to the poem. Here is mine:

Category: Living on Purpose, Poetry

Leave a Reply

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

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

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

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Cancel

Connecting to %s

Turning a world upside down and shaking out all the pockets. Channeling curiosity, adventure, wonder to explore truth & authenticity.

Archives

Turning the world upside down and shaking out all the pockets. Channeling curiosity, observation, adventure to explore truth and authenticity.

Archives
Categories

A WordPress.com Website.

%d bloggers like this: