Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Wild Grass

I climbed on to a boat that rocked
held on to the post
with all my might

Until i looked at the sea
who smiled
and said "you really dont have to hold on that tight"

the vessel that holds you
is so much larger
that it perhaps is not in sight.

So I stand 
silent and still
swaying with the wild grass
aware that I am defined and undefined.

2 comments:

  1. I like this one. I think I kind of got it

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  2. Thank you :) I suppose poetry is a little like art...its your unique meaning.

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