Thursday, August 13, 2015

Nothing grows in straight lines

Image result for public domain image of a small mouth bass

Today, I wish for you
A clear morning on the lake--
the waves wandering into ripples,
the fish hanging in the water,
their tails slow undulations
holding their space in motion.
Light bends through breeze-woven weeds,
while the music of the dam rises and falls,
Jazz cords of rock voice.

Yes, I know.
This day is pressed on all sides with memories

But remember--
Nothing grows in truly straight lines;
Nothing that speaks
can ever be perfectly still--
the rain-scented wind carved these words for me.


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