Walking around in circles picking up
wooden nickels, placing them on the ledge.
One by one they’ll stack up high
until they topple over.
You run, trying to catch the perfect
symbol, tying them together tightly.
Woven in a pattern of perfection,
for all of us to see – Revealed …
Perfect shapes in different hues.
Till they send you off for picking up,
those worthless wooden nickels.
Left behind in a line …
Red Wolf Journal Spring 2014, and a fresh start
10 years ago
Posts
Pamela,
ReplyDeleteWe often find ourselves on a wild goose chase. Is life destined for fun in doing so or the frustrations it created.
Sometimes kaykuala. To be perfectly honest I have no idea what I have written here. :)
ReplyDeletePamela
I find a lot of meaning here, Pamela. We search for meaning in so many places, only to find that stack of wooden nickles again. Maybe because we have missed their true meaning, if there is one?
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
I probably don't understand this properly, Pamela, but does it matter? The words and movement in this poem are very fetching.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth I am glad you could find meaning in this. Honestly after writing it, I thought to myself, huh? But sometimes that does happen. :)
ReplyDeletePamela
Viv not much to understand. But thanks for the compliment:)
ReplyDeletePamela
The wonder is that you don't give up. I enjoyed this, Pamela.
ReplyDeleteI will never give up Tilly.
ReplyDeletePamela
I really like this popem Pam...understanding WONDROUS words that make up something called a "poem" is not important....sometimes better to not understand.....thanks and have a sweet sunny weekend...we have over a foot of snow up here...and it is sunny and beautiful
ReplyDeleteThanks Wayne and it is sunny during the day, it goes down to the 30's at night.
ReplyDeletePamela