In between, I’m both
Black and white,
Black and white,
On the fence, posted
Up with two feet
On each side—
One will be left,
And one
Which is right
I might be a bridge—
Not here, not quite
There—over which
Maybe’s pass by
(Destination, unclear)
Or maybe
They get stuck. In the middle
(Just a little,
Not too much)
Is there comfort
In this stance—spread
Eagle, always landing
In the grey,
Not quite sure
Where I’m standing?
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Author:
eckardcb (
Offline) - Published: September 27th, 2025 13:33
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments1
Gray is the healthiest place extremes promote rigidity doubt is the fuel of curiosity and there by learning and knowledge. A lovely poem.
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