poetry by j matthew waters

a matter of black and white

it’s never too late to get started
seeing things for the first time
whether walking through walls
or flying high in the sky

black birds too numerous to count
become motivated by changing winds
amassing in tradition and spirit
swirling like fast moving cloud

oh yes there are darker days ahead
or so says the prognosticator
white dove perched on shoulder
whispering secrets in her ear

sometimes the truth is in flight
other times walking on thin air
appearing and disappearing
like the great houdini himself

november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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