Stick

May 16, 2015 at 2:07 pm (Poems) (, , , , )

We have this habit of defining

the nature of our beast

and an eye for definition

which may limit, or at least

prevent us from evolving

in a helpful sort of way

to keep up with our surroundings –

the environments at play.

.

There are countless endless junctures

at which our cells could switch

from those well-remembered patterns

to a stronger bolder stitch

but our stubborn prolongation

of the sequences we know

keeps us circling our shelter

even when the changed winds blow.

Advertisements

2 Comments

  1. BookOfPain said,

    Julie, this is stunning! ‘even when the changed winds blow’…is a beautiful ending of a great poem.

please feel free to comment on these poems - all feedback appreciated. :)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: