Across the Water

Man hangs, happily distracted,

From a dream of smoke.

In another world; his

Friend is at one end

Of a fight-tense line.

Between them a woman whose

Skeleton is a charity-shop stool frame.

Across the smooth water

A thin stick holds up a man.

Me? I’m here; balancing unsteadily

On a reflection that shifts and

Cannot possibly be me

I’m not that colour, I’m not

That rigid, that tired, don’t

Look as old as the water

So faithlessly shows.

3 thoughts on “Across the Water

  1. Chatty Owl says:

    Oh, what a beautiful write. Once again. Love the references of the fragile balance. Be it life, a person or emotion. The denial of time.
    You write outstanding poetry, dear.

  2. Geo Sans says:

    pools of thought
    we’re all distorted
    in reflection

  3. […] c o m m e n t _ i n s p i r a t i o n : Across the Water / beeseeker […]

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