Wild and Tame

Confluence

Poems are the rhythm of breathing-

words of friction and flow.

Like water impeded by river boulders

that wraps around,

slides under,

glides over.

A collection of nasal, sibilant,

and plosive bursts,

caesuras where voids are filled,

thoughts are connected-

the spaces in which we feel.

We are close, but

not fully harmonious-

like slant rhyme.

Yet I feel an internal rhyme

which flows through my heart-

grist for my mill.

I do not wish to grind you,

but float in your river.

Bathe me in your emotion.

Unite us as author and reader

of perceived and reasoned balance,

not to be divided as on a seesaw

of pain and hope.