words run away
like wishes leaping off a bridge
I would leap too if you
told me to
I would do it all
dare and doubledare
bet I would
if I could
though I know
I shouldn’t
thoughts slip through
sticky fingers
steal away tomorrow
just on the edge of dawn
I’m safe here
maybe that’s the problem
too much comfort
not enough chance
I try to catch them
off in the nether fields
of green waiting for rain
waiting for sun
for a mind that is calm
for a settled heart
for hands that catch
but not cling
for words that rest easy
on paper that doesn’t
accuse
as though I committed
a crime that sits
heavy on shoulders
that would carry more
I wait
Wanted to take a moment to set a spell. Ain’t no crimes in here, Ms Dee: I suspect the problem is too many poems running in the glee: you need more hands and sticky fingers to catch them. I love the whimsy of the first stanza; I am currently going steady with too much comfort / not enough chance; and the third stanza is a beautiful lamenting prayer.
just me whistling past the alley, refraining from stepping on cracks, throwing slat over my shoulder, and taking long detours around ladders…
‘wishes leaping off a bridge’..there’s a thought..I guess you can catch them whilst staying safe and watching from the railings..it does tend to happen that words erupt when there’s a little volcano inside..but maybe we just feel guilty listening to our happiness muse rather than our miserable muse..I think you find those words just fine..Jae 🙂