Poem of the Month: Wreckage

Standard

Bereft of anchors, I am unsure of floating or falling.

I wait for a sign, some change in the light

But all is stillness.

In the wake of the storm,

I survey the damage

Assessing what I find.

Pieces of myself are strewn about,

Some shredded beyond repair,

Others merely marred.

I wonder if it’s worth the effort.

If there is a point to “starting over.”

How can anything good come from this?

Unaware of my musings,

The sun rises, the birds sing

and I bend, claiming a remnant.

AC 2011

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s