Friday, March 4, 2011

Smooth Muscle

Smooth Muscle google images

Palming the walls of my surround
Miles of circle walking
Gaining no ground
Smooth to the touch
So dark my vision
Prevaricates my brain seeks
Where am I, that I can’t see the top?
So smooth to the touch, like glass
River worn stone
Nothing for a foothold
No way to climb up
No way to climb out
My foot kicks the bucket laced
With a severed rope
Waving my arms in the air
On tippy tippy toes
I feel its mated tattered ends
Fingertip graze my deepest stretch
And even if I was in an amphitheater
I would run back to my well
It is there I am comforted
By getting out but never leaving.


Myrna R. said...

Kristen this is beautiful. The melancholy mood is still somehow sweet and hopeful. Very lovely.

JamieDedes said...

Ah, I see you also have been redecorating. Lovely theme. Love the flower to the right.

I see why you said "Point of No Return" reminded you of what you'd just written.

A stunning poem here, given the imagery and rather sweet in its wondering though sad. A nice juxtaposition. Well done.

Promising Poets Parking Lot said...

amazing, I feel like looking at my favorite treats here.

Happy Sunday!
please share one piece with poets rally today, thanks.