Flying Fish

dreams, life, poetry Leave a comment

Ground is shifting
below my feet
solid mass
swirling,
dissolving
into gritty
eddies of sand.

Would be a desert
storm if I were not
standing at
water’s edge;
nothing for it
but to leap
take a risk
and fly.

(Interest from pinterest.com)

 

Advertisements

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