Tear-stained eyes stare at the screen,
Hands shake, hovering,
Potential of words at my fingertips.

Thoughts circle and weave,
Fleeting flashes as they catch the light
And then slip from my grasp.

Empty of tears, empty of thought,
My hollow husk remains,
Drifting on the wind.

Home was long ago and far away;
I would miss it could I feel.
My dreams must still be there.

5 thoughts on “Adrift

    1. This kind of writing for me is a way to release emotions that I can barely recognize, barely put a name to until they are pinned to the page and displayed. But in releasing them I do gain a measure of calm.


    1. The opening verse is absolutely literal. I knew I had to express myself but was blocked. Then I started to describe where I was, what I was doing.

      I was looking at my hands poised above the keyboard and thought about how all those keys, all those letters, were the building blocks of the words I needed. If I could only gather them into coherent groups.


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