Soft Clouds in Quiet Puddles

by

Doug Larson

I came here to think
above these silent puddles
my senses saturating in the breeze
cool humid birdsong wind
both familiar and yet so strange
and the clatter of the city is lost
in the languid dream of the moment
as I recall my history here
and rescind all of my past projections
as folly

It proves nothing and yet
it is comforting to sit
eating this box lunch
listening for answers that never come
I sit and think
while my questions fade
dissolving like salt on my tongue
and all I’m left with are raw answers
to questions
that perhaps I’ve never thought to ask

A duck traces a watery contrail
slithered shadows on a man-made lake
as the kiss of a breeze flutters
in veiled crests
from one shore to the other

Overhead the sky hides with the sun
far above the grayness of the day
and I drink it all in
quenching my thirst alone
among these silent reflections
rippled mirrors in brackish water
unmoved
clouds dancing softly
in quiet puddles

NEXT?
Why don't you look at There Is More
by: John William McGrath III
from: Mesa, AZ, US

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