Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Gathering words

It zings the page and rises,
curls like waves dashed into foam.

To grasp a first line that
leads to the vanishing point.

Where sun at the horizon
mystifies and dips behind
the sea.

How to paddle out to discover
the shape of story.


It's hidden and teases,
waiting for notions to collide.
A mythology of merriment,
bubbled by the waves.
It exists beneath
foam left for discovery.
Anenomes bloom pink
with purpled tentacles
soothed by flow
then fingers or prey
get sucked right in.


Creative Write:   Gather flavors, colors of earth, scents of stones.  Begin to arrive to speak, to tell stories.

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