Wednesday, May 16, 2018

None of My Friends are Poets

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In search of serenity, I walk.
My spirit rocks to the
rhythm of a song, my
poetic thoughts unlock.
Later, I'll get back home
and my pen will overflow.
I'll write too much,
because the ego needs
too many words
to say so little.
But for now, I walk, and
a pelican flies over me.
We'll never touch,
but I send up my love.
I smile as her shadow
merges with mine
on the ground.
Just for a moment,
our souls intertwine.
An earthworm gyrates
on the pavement,
trying its best not to die.
Life is so fragile.
I walk by the murky
gray-green of a pond,
the same color as my eyes.
But, when I look again,
the sun hits its surface
and it suddenly shines
like diamonds.
A beautiful song plays in my ears,
in a language I don't speak,
but it doesn't matter
because music is a wonder.
Love. I say that out loud
when the song ends.
None of my friends are poets.


Walking, poetry, music...three of the joys of my life. Oh, and also the fourth: taking photos, which I did while taking my walk. Thank you, BTS, for the beautiful music!


2 comments:

  1. Ahhhh, Sherri, I felt as if I was walking with you, and sharing your thoughts. And such very beautiful thoughts they were . . . . .

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    1. Thank you, Carol - I treasure my morning walks. Such a great way to start my day!

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