The Poetry Marathon

Black dot on my hand…

(After hours I read my first “grown-up” book, Treasure Island, and I dream…)

Black dot on MY hand? What kind of dream is this?

Sandy toes squishing muck as I search for glints of gold in soft moonlight and find piranha instead…

In the Ocean? Ahhh, yes…it’s my dream…and here begins the mare of night…

Drowning…

Who isn’t?

Under the air, silky smooth caressing me while I glide deeper, ever deeper…

Bubbles tickle rushing past my long, slow hair as I turn and see the others staring back at me…

Who is the Shark now?

I pull one out, she pulls out two.

Our favorite man baits our hooks and grins.

I pull out one. She pulls out two.

A picture, smiling softly…drawstring hood surrounds her wrinkles as she poses heavy with fish. My fish are yellow, and they scream.

Who knew fish could cry like me?

(I miss them…)

Looking forward to meeting people and reading and writing poems. Today has turned into a surprisingly busy day for me, so I will do my best with this marathon. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to write, so forgive the dust as I shake off my soul and prepare to fly with everyone on this adventure… *smile*