poetry by j matthew waters

buried treasure

not too deep beneath the surface
I am being called to action
a map left on a coffee table
the airport an hour away

there is a great distance between
today & buried treasure
subconsciously stumbled upon
while whistling with the wind

if you ever see me again
likely I’ll be unrecognizable
perhaps a little younger
more than likely more sensible

march two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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2 thoughts on “buried treasure

  1. I like that in this dance with an undercurrent, you’re whistling “with” and not in the wind. Slipping into that other world… good luck upon your return.

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