drowning in a mud puddle

the beavers
in my mind
have erected a dam
that keeps the fiction
as i desperately try
to wrangle
the words

a group of sparrows drops
shiny bits
of metal pieces
of colorful yarn
an occasional twig
to feed the rumbling hunger
of poetry

it’s like
in a mud puddle
after pulling yourself
from the sea
or sinking
into the quicksand
of every childhood horror

2 thoughts on “drowning in a mud puddle

  1. Somethings wrong with me. Beaver and erected interrupted my absorption of what this should be. Pardon my pubescent mental tangent.

    Upon the Several sips of coffee and a forth read, I am now there. ❤️ I adore your mind

    Liked by 1 person

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