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The flickering light of the lantern’s flame lays lightly upon the lingering stream. I do not know where the water leads, but I’ll drink my fill till the aches subside. The moss grows rampant among the trees in this mighty forest that eyes have forgot. And still I sit, watching it grow until the words in the songs of birds grow clear. The heartbeat of the soil slowly churns beneath my bunions and well-traversed heels. The sky won’t fall, so I have time to wait. Just like the ferry, tethered to the old dying walnut.
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 3:01 PM UTC
The Ferry Sits Waiting
The flickering light of the lantern’s flame lays lightly upon the lingering stream. I do not know where the water leads, but I’ll drink my fill till the aches subside. The moss grows rampant among the trees in this mighty forest that eyes have forgot. And still I sit, watching it grow until the words in the songs of birds grow clear. The heartbeat of the soil slowly churns beneath my bunions and well-traversed heels. The sky won’t fall, so I have time to wait. Just like the ferry, tethered to the old dying walnut.
tyler-lynn-pulliam
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 3:01 PM UTC
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