Far Off Shore

I remember when
the first words out of my mouth
were not infested by
meandering termites &
my tongue still
felt alive

I remember when
fortune was not just
a four letter word —
but a one way ticket
to favored utopia

I remember when
there was still
laughter in the rain &
my hand did not falter
touching yours.

– age –

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Writing in Wild Waters

fear
of drowing
in an angry sea

a word!
one word
a beacon –
hold it tight

another
and another
slowly knot
a string of words

more…
gather strings
to make
a rope
longer

longer still

until
the rope of words
becomes
an escape route ~
leading
back to sanity…

back
to safer shores.

__________________________
photo credits: wetcanvas.com