The Question


The question of my existence
goes around one more time today,
like ponies gliding up and down
on a merry-go-round.
No one response sticks
flat to the ground.

The fleeting answer speaks
out of a benevolent silence.
Some phrases sound distant,
but mostly it is all close by.

It swings through my open space–
the room where we all breathe–
the volume rising
when the question loves
no answer.

This entry was posted in poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

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

Google+ photo

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

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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


Connecting to %s