Amo, Amas, Amat Poem by Kate Hutson

Continued reasoning drips futility
As the dichotomy of feeling
Trembles in the current.
Concentric pools of thought ripple.
The stone skims and sinks.

(amo, amas, amat)

Reality is the pebble in my palm
As I flex my arm and throw.
The splash skitters the water
Before calm, like glass, resumes
And I gaze at my open hand.

(amo, amas, amat)

I resist the urge to wade in,
To risk wet and slip and stumble.
Reality is my empty hand.
Subjugating my gullibility
I smile and walk away.

(amabo, amabis, amabit)


11.04.07