the wake struggles to hold its line
to reclaim the disturbance of form
as the current pushes against it
hold on hold on
oh Fred you had it right
splattered pinpricks and curving, curving
the path of least resistance
the ancient songs in unison
twisting through the mud
tendrils floating on a breeze
down generations to take hold
incarnate in the next
the truths of earth
of water, of air, of fire
find substance
About the Creator
Christopher Francis
I began writing as a child, continued as an adult and worked briefly as a professional. Literature and music were and are my passions. Then life got in the way. Now, at 66 they have returned and I am giving them my full attention. Ta da.
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