“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Thursday, March 9, 2017
Bottoms up
Have you fallen
into a book, a slump,
into bed
too deep
for another to hear your muffled voice trying to climb out?
If so, please let me know, as I have been seeking
low and high for the loose end to grab onto
falling short of finding the eminent source
of your sound-
could I be late-
are you too far
underneath to speak freely?
Well,
we all make choices,
most have moved on.
I have pulled on this rope
without end
wishing and waiting for one more
buried echo-o-o-o-o-o-o...
Painting by Georg Flegel [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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