Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2012
Your best odds rest on rest.
Speed kills, horizontal in its nature,
it fights growing upward.
Clouds travel continents,
living conversations between breath
and potential, lazing in
sunshine, dancing into new shapes
on impulses they don't try to control.
Not molded, but explosive,
they disappear, when it's
convenient for them.
Written by
Sean Whitney
750
   ---, Meghan Marie and steel tulips
Please log in to view and add comments on poems