poetry by j matthew waters


there were stones lined along pathway
topped with frost and shiny from
southern sun striking topsides

walking along hands behind back
I wonder how alive
these inanimate objects must be
as they continued to pave my way

I am remiss if I don’t doubt the reality
of my own existence
at times cursed and others exalted
chastised and honored
reviled and revered
depending upon time of day

there is no sadness surrounding
anything around here
there is only relief
for what was once my constancy
transitions into solitary acceptance

new year’s eve two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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