Like Stevie’s young man,
I was too far out
much too far out
and not waving
I didn’t want the attention
waving would draw
to my foolishness
or precociousness
or my stubbornness
when I’d gone too far,
wouldn’t want to be judged
on my waywardness.
But I wasn’t drowning.
I floundered a bit
frantically
before
I found I could float,
go with the flow
for a while
and then kick off against the current
in my own direction.
Sometimes I reached the safety
of the shore
and stayed close for a while
but only for a while,
only for a while
I stayed
too far out all my life
but not waving or drowning.
Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud ‘War Poetry for Today’ competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Apogee, Firewords, Vagabond Press, Light Journal and So It Goes Journal. Find Lynn at LynnWhitePoetry.com
Erica Goss served as Poet Laureate of Los Gatos, California from 2013-2016. She is the…
Sarah Barton--Zhen Xian Bao 31. Rives BFK, chiyogami, paste paper, origami paper, inks. 10”x…
Dear Readers, I was almost waylaid by a corgi at the market this morning, nearly…
The Mood Turns The swifts have weaned their young and those the cat didn’t get…
Passing All Understanding We bargain for peace meeting our understanding, Unaware of the need to…
Stones Rise Skimming the edge of an esker, gravel crunched by boots, immature red polyps…