Poem: Able, finally


Able, finally

Waves so gentle
you can barely hear them.
The wind, a whisper.

Half a dozen ducks swim silently
past blue water and indigo skies,
a beautiful exorcism,

your demons quiet,
their twisted truths somehow purged,
allowing you to pretend,

at least for this one moment,
that they have died,
never to return,

If you think,
you know the truth,
that their gnarly teeth and twisted tongues
are eternal,

a mix of chemicals and trauma,
that rises and falls with the moon,

But now, in this moment, they are subdued,
and you are as you were meant to be,
lost in the moment,
to feel in safety.

About this poem

Peace comes hard. Writing about it, for me, is more difficult that writing about struggles.

Strange huh? And a little sad, I think.


One comment

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 )

Google photo

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

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s