Pocketing Blue

Okay, the horizon’s
gone a little murky
and the air
-waves are a cacophony
of argumentation
and delineation
and falsification
and hate. We debate
and we try to satiate
our hunger with
happenstance instead
of hope. We grope
around in the darkness
instead of turning
on our own small lights.

We wander
and wonder
why it all
still feels the
Oh, but see?
The sky

The sun,
(no surprise)
will rise and fall
at will and the moon
will spill her wisdom
even as she’s waning.
These sharp-spun stars
…….(defying jars)
will shine and fall
and spark and die,
and you and I,
perhaps we’ll un
-hurry, unworry,
untether ourselves
and cloud-float on by,




Prompted by Quickly, day 16. Catching up, backward. 


This entry was posted in Miz Q January, moon poems and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to Pocketing Blue

  1. great poem – well said

  2. erbiage says:

    Very nice. Your parenthesis, isnthat indecision? Cleverness? Or dipping into the garden of forking paths? I often find myself at a point where it could go either way, and the unrelenting flow seems to force a choice…

  3. Iris says:

    Yes. I officially declare everyone free. 🙂 If anyone’s wearing handcuffs, it’s cuz they like it. 😛

    “we try to satiate
    our hunger with
    happenstance” … Love.

    Look up that gorgeous song called “Happenstance.” Oh, I’ll find it for you in a bit.

    I love the notion of unhurrying.

  4. Misky says:

    I really like this: instead of turning on our own small lights. — there’s so much truth and wisdom in that.

  5. julespaige says:

    Too many attempt to tame that which is wild.
    Words, poetic are wild even as they sentence our thoughts.

    (Not looking forward to the next four years…yet knowing the sun and moon will rise and set helps.)

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