poetry by j matthew waters


where am I
everyday finding myself
in a new place
not a one of them

some places are cutting edge
others seemingly ancient
everywhere steadfast faces
taking to the imperfect streets
doing only what they know

silence follows
as evening turns to dusk
the heavens open
I am lost in thought

always faraway like tomorrow
I practice patience & passion
eyes locked on the dark sky
believing I’ll awaken yet again
to this place I call playground

june two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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9 thoughts on “playground

  1. Truly thought-provoking. I didn’t get how deep the meaning was until the last line.

  2. Excellent poem, John.

  3. ‘steadfast faces talking to imperfect streets….’ and many more in this poem. This was really very well-written.

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