Thursday, February 14, 2008

Stroke By Stroke

The fog is muscled-up thick
preventing me from finding shore.
Every direction I turn
I’m head-locked tighter in dilemma.

I can’t just sit in its grip,
there must be a way to slip free.
I’ll stab its muddy-bottom feet,
with the long pole I hold,
until, it lifts them out of the water.

10 comments:

gautami tripathy said...

Do stab its toe. It deserves nothing less!

Masago said...

Freedom...

J. Andrew Lockhart said...

wonderfuly said!!

floots said...

fantastic imagery pat
thank you

Margie said...

Your words express it so well!
Good poem, Pat!

Margie

boulies said...

I know the feeling you describe so well. You took me to that place for a moment and yanked me right back out.
Thank you!

polona said...

great imagery... i can feel it if not see it

Bill said...

"muscled-up thick" is a great descritpive phrase.

Don Iannone said...

I agree with Sir Floots .., the imagery is divine.

jel said...

hi friend