Musing. Poem by Peter Vealey
Musing.
Walking out,
In my lover's garden.
Musing,
on the wildness of
life's colourful tapestry.
Yet drunk on being normal,
For the first time in ages.
Whispering a living,
Keen doe-eyed, afloat,
Joyous and tight-reined,
On a ski board,
Of forgotten hangovers.
Where the sea runs on
Cardiac arrest,
Back to the tributaries of
Many tragedies,
While water just keeps running, running
Inexorably.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/3/2024 1:59:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
