Idle Thoughts With a View
Idle thoughts have me replaying
the cry of an owl I heard
last night when half asleep
and swear it flew a silent course
through the center of a dream
and then, this morning,
I had myself picking a splotch
of sunlight from a leaf to hold
in my hand before it flew away
on a sudden gust of wind.
Then, off I went to break
a sagging spiders web hung
with beads of dew and stretched
across my path, a sticky wet cling
of thread finally letting go
to set my morning free.
One day, I fear, I shall
fold myself up and let
my idle thoughts metamorphose
into me, taking a room with a view
on the second floor of my poetry.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment