poetry friday

i haven't sat here long,

yet everything stops for me.

there are trees and,

there are cars,

i choose to focus on them.

i choose also to focus on my feet,

and i can feel the wooden,

floor beneath.

for everything i need to do,

i hold silence and guild,

from way beneath the path of many,

an iron will,

in the strength of few.

a truck goes past,

and my busy day,

comes back with it,

into view.

copyright cosmic 2009