I feel like
a book between
two different yet
similar bookends one
fixed capable of
bearing my weight
and the other
prone to slipping
the strong one
is cold the
other warmly fuzzy
back and forth
I go like
a yo-yo or
the pendulum of
a grandfather clock
just keeping time
until at last
hands or laps
or even lips
open my pages
beginning to read
Month: May 2024
Spinning
I don’t
even know
anymore everything
I did
I don’t
and I
wonder now
if I
ever did
it’s like
this life
keeps tapping
me on
shoulder and
when turning
to see
it runs
behind again
and me
a toy
top spinning
one day
I suppose
I’ll catch
it and
stop this
dizzying dance
and see
what all
this has
been about
Thaw
Finally the thaw
after a long
harsh isolating winter
one of fury
and bitter winds
which howled and
danced screaming spells
and whistling incantations
meant to conjure
up lost demons
now the thaw
some pitter patter
of long awaited
life dripping from
long ago fallen
snow gathered heaved
and heaped that
begins to drip
into the cistern
turning this darkness
into its own
kind of light
Wood
New is how
I’d describe him
like a fresh
plank of wood
soft to hand
luxurious to touch
whispering its wishes
to become something
yearning to be
anything more than
wood but wood
is where its
beauty lies in
its blemishes its
knots and the
veins of life
that run its
length creating a
quiet rich river
Bubbles
New is how
I’d describe him
like that first
refreshing sip of
tonic water crisp
a sour start
and sweet finish
bubbles that dance
on the tongue
that rise and
float in glass
gentle to watch
as they pop
disappear and another
rises and swims
taking its place
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 