Wavering world,
seen in the ripples raised by a hand
a stone
the flip of a fish tail
the delicate violence of a feeding bird.
How strange the ruffling shapes of trees
lines and colors painted on a clear undulating canvas.
Faces flit between waves of light and dark.
Across the pond a loon’s trill floats over the water
falling into rhythm with this wavering world.
Ripples
05 Tuesday Mar 2013
Posted poems
in
I could sit down with these words and allow them to gradually lead me into a better and more peaceful place
David
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Thank you for taking the time to read my poetry and leave such a nice comment.
Your paintings are extraordinary and the combination with your poetry is a nice touch.
Ron
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