Sunday 6/10/2018 10:37:00 PM

what's the wind. if not a measure of our resistance. all the seldom castles lingering in the midday. heavy anchors on hungry vessels. the arrogant hunt of ego and skin. the consistent attrition of impossible choices.

what's the water below? what's the gravel underfoot? a puzzle for solving. a challenge to exceed our limits.

so many ways to run. away. toward. from.

the miles transpire. a pelting rain of distance. that tries to drown us, but never quite does.

the puddles lingering long after the weather has turned.

still, the horizon beckons.


no matter how far we've come.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2024. All Rights Reserved.