Life

Fragmented speeches, flashes of faces;

bits and pieces, scattered traces;

pauses to consider a slant of light, 

the bend of limbs in a leafless tree,

a morning song of a lonely thrush, 

the final brilliance of a setting sun —

all forms of poetry—

sighs, stutters, whisperings;

running breathlessly,

rest and rapid spurts,

laughter, tears, seasons of anger;  

crude understanding 

and profound epiphanies;

morning… noon… night…, 

waiting and taking flight,

solitary silence amid the thunderous crowd,

hunger and fullness, need and want,

concern and apathy,

open palms and fisticuffs;

a gentle harmony like spring rain,

and the harsh dissonance of jealousy,  

a bitter root and a new bloom,

stalwart faith and stifling mistrust,

sweet newborns and the wizened gray,

a full measure of love and an empty cup;

a story of humanity…

yours… mine…

the stuff of us.

C.L. Fisher, June 2020

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