not the withdrawal
into quiet when choosing
not to be deemed a fool
not the decision
that some things are best left unsaid
before one particular soul
no. rather, the terrifying echo
of the vital words
that can’t make it out:
the swallowed stone
or clinging desperate to the
precipice, a hand over the mouth
I send you my best wishes,
and I hope that you are safe and feeling okay./ Or at least feeling better soon…
Take good care,
Z
Comment by Z — June 15, 2006 @ 11:56 pm
Laurelin?
((hug))
You know where I am if you want me.
xxx
Comment by witchy-woo — June 16, 2006 @ 12:04 am
Thanks Z and Witchy. This is something I wrote quite a long time ago, which I just rediscovered. It is more reflecting on old stuff than a present description of things. Sorry to have scared anyone! xxx
Comment by laurelin — June 16, 2006 @ 8:45 am
No it’s fine!
I figured it could be either…
I think it’s a very good poem. Evokes a lot of feeling.
Take good care,
Comment by Z — June 16, 2006 @ 9:25 pm