It's fast,
Like your own eyes,
In their own reflection,
Try to catch their movements, but can't.
That fast.
Steady,
Like pollen falls,
Unseen but understood,
Appreciated but not heard.
So calm.
Painful,
Like a deep breath,
Of air so cold it burns,
An oxymoron holding truth.
Nonsense.
That's life.
A puff of smoke.
A ball of snow in Spring.
A jar to be filled with pennies.
There there...
Stay calm.
You'll be just fine.
A contest entry
- Cinquain Me Please by piccola.
700 points, ended January 28, 23 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
nicely done. thank you for entering. I'll say more when my keyboard is fixed and I can type.
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