Fear is round like cobblestones
Hampering my feet.
It looks as dead as dried-white bones.
It needs no more to eat.
I feed it nonetheless and so
It grows to my chagrin.
When it bursts that’s when I know
My breath flows free again.
Text: Linked to dVerse Quadrille Monday. De Jackson (WhimsyGizmo) is hosting and the word is “cobble”. I am also linking this to Jilly’s “Day 4 of 28 Days of Unreason” featuring poetry by Jim Harrison.
Photos: “Maple Lit by Streetlight”, above, and “Light and Dark”, below.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 