poetry by j matthew waters

while skimming stones across glass pond

it’s a perfect fit
basking in the moment
but it was short-lived
like a lost talisman
like a grand slam
or coup d’état

there is piano
and saxophone at play
filling the air
and dissipating
bandaging all cares
only to unmask

you pick something
out of thin air
be it rose petal or
raindrop or damselfly
further defining
recollections scattering

december two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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