poetry by j matthew waters


crocodile clouds give way
to elephants marching
slowly into the horizon

at times they’re suffocating
pulled down by gravity
& one hundred one kite flyers

catch & release is the game
unable to tame the wild
send them back with fire & fury

what comes around stays
for maybe an eternity
or until the next near extinction

february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Single Post Navigation

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: