Birds flying north for the spring
Paused in hypothetical flight
Above vibrant hues of blue
Splashed across life’s canvas
Whirls and whorls spinning faster
Yet as constant as the setting sun
The water calm and inviting
Paint-thin and sliding away
We stand on the edge of the pier
Conscious of the full-stop
Urging it on in whispers and cat-calls
Urgent like the coming rain
Set to the tick-tock of the clock
Fragmented like frames on a reel
Clicking slowly into place
One at a time, in perfect rhythm
But with no rhyme or reason
Constructed solely to please
Weeds overgrown from disuse
Nuance shifting like sands of time
Sound echoing in the distance
Calling out to yesterday
When dreams were new and bulletproof
Yet fragile like glass
The birds move slowly forward
Leaving smudged clouds in their wake
And we walk the other way
Into the future.


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Cozy Corner

A Writer's Journey

Whose Wine Is It Anyway?

Exploring life, love, lifting, and (almost) literally everything else, frequently aided by laughter and libations

Dr. K. L. Register

Just a small town girl who writes about Christian stuff.

Sara Furlong

Strategic freelance writer specializing in online content, articles, web copy, & SEO.

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