Slipstream

The ancient eavesdropper

Crossing
the finish line —
an invisible tape
I could not break —
spiderweb.

Blind as an earthworm —
fumbling on the ground —
searching for my contact lens.

The muffled
screams of
fading leaves
before the fall —
color drained
from extremities —
branches crack
like white knuckles.

Above the freeway
a flock of geese
fly against traffic.

From a drip
to a downpour
my spastic muse.

The holes
in my logic —
spaces between
these words —
uncertainty hangs
without a period

Sideways rain
leaves skitter
across the street
& stick to windows
like autumnal
propaganda.

New bird feeder
an extra hour of treats
for passing beaks.

Floating
over
uncharted
canopies —
rubbing
shoulders with
giant trees —
transcending
the towering
darkness of
my dreams.

In the slipstream
of unconsciousness
I catch myself
from falling awake.

This heart flutters
inside the birdcage
of my chest —
invisible wings

View original post 11 more words

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About tyler4turtles

I am an avid photographer, poet, ecologist, bookworm, blogger, art enthusiast and runner who calls Montana home but lives in Oregon.
This entry was posted in Nature. Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Slipstream

  1. rothpoetry says:

    I hope it does not come toooo soon! Great imagery in your poem!

  2. Sherry Felix says:

    Intersting mood. Edgy 🙂

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