Floating

Floating

A Poem by Marlena

It’s called drifting

This floating, fluid thing that I do

You see, sometimes the currents just

Carry me

And I’m far away again;

That browning leaf on the water’s surface

The one eyes follow,

And on occasion

The rarest, it seems, of circumstances,

A fingertip grazes that surface

Spreading and convoluting particles

Droplets like memories,

Stars, too.

But I carry on, I float

I drift

And I wait for the waterfall at the end

Not realizing, in the time that it takes

To get there, to go,

I make my own currents, too.


© 2013 Marlena



Author's Note

Marlena
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Added on June 19, 2013
Last Updated on June 19, 2013

Author

Marlena
Marlena

NY



About
-What's there to know? It's obvious why I'm here, that's all you need to get it.- more..

Writing
Unspoken Unspoken

A Poem by Marlena