I knew the day would come that I just would not be feeling it. Actually, I do feel a bit under the weather. But I have done it. I have cut myself some slack though. Let’s just say it is a micropoem. But I have spent a bit of time at poetry practice nonetheless.
Cocoon
The world is a worry bead everyone is rubbing.
When did so many humans begin to yearn to immolate?
While others of my kind are spinning a silken case,
Awaiting the right time to unswathe
To flutter and create another kind of chaos.
Copyright Bee Smith 2018
Featured image by Suzanne D. Williams on unsplash.com
Sometimes the fragments are the MOST evocative, as this is. Well done. “Another kind of chaos,” of creation. Oh yes.
Cari Ferraro
http://cariferraro.com http://www.proseandletters.com
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