Sink or swim


The stream holds a feather
Fallen from a bird in flight it floats
Her barbs paw gently on the surface
Holding the water that envelops
Watch it as it dips and wanes
Yet she doesn’t fall to the rocks below
Steadfast through the currents, strong again
Light, weightless

A stone we cast, heavy
Will not float
Throw it in
It will drown each time
Most times I am the feather
Buoyant, resilient
Barbs untouched
Not allowing myself to sink
Then there are times
I am that stone

Also for – writing on our emotions

Puzzle piece

I think of nomads
My fingers trace the walls unfamiliar
Paper scrunched in boxes that held the
‘things’ that now have found a home

Sunlight sits, waiting for curtains
to be drawn, to drop upon the floors
Yet grey clouds in the distance loom
reminding me that all is not perfect

The obscure piece that’s left
wondering if it will be slotted
to make the puzzle whole
Strange territory where thoughts spin
from calm to confusion

Past lives consume, with
empty boxes cast aside
paper waiting to wrap those
‘things’ again, to find a new home

A drifter, vagabond
Sauntering, singular but not
The sun streams, the clouds hover
the only sound I hear, the dialogue
on Bridges of Madison County

Copyright JMTacken 21.6.2014