Under construction

Ice-ridden river

Match-making in shared moments

the winter’s broken promises

feel so effortlessly serene.

There is a rapprochement in

the submarine sun, submerged

and safe as a summer sonnet.

But unwieldy and withered

like grandma’s warm hands,

one hour grasps another.

So, I chuckled to myself,

author and beneficiary to

my own private joke.

And, with trickles and trembles, 

thoughts crawled impatiently beneath 

the ice-ridden river.

Maybe this is a good time

to tell this pen of disconnections

requiring a poet’s attention.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s