Written for: Sunday Whirl, Wordle #431
Words: beam, chase, bond, scream, once, puzzle, sit, found, lit, born, wish, dance
This poem is a race, it
chases the urge to sit still.
This poem is wish-born,
lit by a moonbeam. Once
she danced, and found
herself bonding with
music. Where did it go?
This poem is a soap
puzzle, a way to wash
away screams in the
night. As long as she
is racing to chase that
urge, she will continue
hunting down those missing pieces.
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I love the dark undertones of this poem – very Alice!
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Thanks, Jae. That is a special comment.
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Life is one unending chase..
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Until we stand still.
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