Bloodlines
a poem about being comfortably uncomfortable
When I stand
the world spins
So, still, I sit
and I listen
I close my eyes
til' I can't stand it
Do I run
Would it be a sin
to run
Until I am spent
It won't be long
before I miss
Miss to stand
Miss to sit
Looking at my hands
The lines a map of something
I don't know about
I've been told
it isn't in my blood
to run
to fly
it is to sit
to stand
to cry
but my feet scream
'go'
About the Creator
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More stories from Joni Écrit and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶3 days ago in Petlife
Comments (1)
This was so wonderful! Loved your poem!