Driftwood | Original Poetry

Words
74
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Tell me,
what do you see —
driftwood bobbing with
the flow of the Moon-swept tide,
or salmon defying the currents
and swimming uphill
towards the North Star?

Tell me,
how will you be —
camouflaging, bleating
and blending in with the chorus,
or skipping like a carefree
child to the beat
of his own drum?

So, tell me,
is what you see how you will not be?


Photo by Cameron Stow


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Driftwood | Original Poetry | Ecency