QuickSilver

what was like glass
an uninterrupted flow
breaking and reconstructing
in endless silvered patterns
like memory loosened
forming and reforming
in a perpetually changing matrix
in time fracturing
quicksilver
mercurial
the tides pulling
a prow cutting through
the chilly water
the stern sending
a boiling wake
changing everything
as the tides rise and fall
yet the feel of the slipping tide
under your feet
can no more be forgotten
then a winter book
that becomes part of you
as you sit
wrapped in a blanket
with a cup steaming
on the end table
as the rain pounds the windows
cutting off escape

BIRD

Poem Copyright
© 2005 Frederick D. Perry, All Rights Reserved