Rehabilitation Time

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    Rehabilitation Time

    At the mercy,
    of wind and tide...
    I blew,
    into the doors
    of perception...

    hanging onto,
    the thread
    of destiny...
    I dangled,
    clinging tenaciously...

    recognizing,
    the sign
    of impending calamity...

    I came back
    to earth,
    to deal
    with myself...

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    lightcourier commented on Rehabilitation Time

    07-20-2009

    Gotta refrain from listening to those sirens again and again! lol (not the red lite kind...that is the sirens luring you away from your tethers!) Nice work! Thanks!

    Bwyn commented on Rehabilitation Time

    01-23-2009

    Awesome leaves room for the reader to analyze it on thier own.

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    Bohemian’s Poems (37)

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