orange fish
probe noses against
cold veneer
plunk noiselessly in their
lethargy, mind-numbing
cold inches down
the solid crystal
bubbles encased
in beauty while pressures
oft created in fuming
nature’s grasp
increase by bumps
till the rip of power
cracks across the smooth.
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
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*smiles* i saw it :) in your words--thank you, wish i could write like you :)
(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :)
Love Tinka