Blog Archive

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Her Own Reality

A red wing Blackbird
the soundtrack
to her morning jog
across fields and down
muddying paths,
her feet pounding
to the beat of a steady heart.
Fall colors mesmerize
as dreams tumble through
her dreamer's mind,
some lead and some follow
all pointing to a reality
still caught in her throat,
only a word had been spoken
to create the divide
between sea and sky.
Simple words; a yes here
a no there, were all
that was needed
to shape her own
wavering reality.

1 comment:

Barry said...

Fascinating poem, simple and familiar yet touched with mystery and sadness.

It feels very real.