Adrift
For National Poetry Month #11
I cannot write with heart squeezed shut.
I am stilled.
My feet nailed to the floor.
An ocean pulls me along
hidden tides,
sharp shoals.
The consequences of this terrain,
unknown--
to self,
to heart,
to the stilling
cooling heat of age.
Adrift in cooling water
my heart contracts again,
finding its rhythm.
Respite
Light
Fire
How long before it ends?
copyright/all rights reserved April 11, 2012 Audrey Howitt. Do not copy or use without express written permission of the author.