Q U I E T   M I N D


Her quiet mind
Neither awake nor asleep

Runs soft aground
Upon the delta lip
of a large underground river

She breathes deep sea air
In the roar of breaking surf

Strong current pulls her limbs
Toward open ocean outside
This reef which is her bed

But she's stuck fast to the earth
Her spine bound by a slender thread
of comet trails and smoke

Next Page

Swagazine 9
Winter 2001

 «  POETRY  » 

 «  FICTION  » 

 «  Biographies  » 

 «  Masthead  » 

 «  Home  » 

Back to Top