A Year of Poems – Day 290

In beads of sweat,
thought slows down.
A second in a ball of salt,
drips like an hour glass.
Words fall from lips,
taking the time of lectures
to formulate a single thought.
Yet it crystalizes round that word
which labored over long and hard,
sits clearer than the muddied ground.


Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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