Monday, November 21, 2011

Still

My heart is as placid as the
lake, and a rowboat glides smoothly
over the stillness
whilst underneath life churns.

Things eat each other.
Dive bomb birds,
cast lines reel,
and memories swirl
but the rowboat continues
to the very center
unperturbed
and drops it's anchor
into the churning
homeostasis.

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