what’s solid keeps shifting,
a kind of slow slide
beneath the day’s footing—
a small body of water
giving way to something larger
held just past the edge
of keeping it together—
and still the errands call,
each list a small task
to steady the shake
that never shows in the hands
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 10th, 2026 06:33
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- In collections: delayed telecast.
Offline)
Comments1
Indeed I feel the ground shifting at times and I have to reach out to steady myself. It is that loss of balance as if one closes one's eyes and lifts one's head back. I learned years ago not to do it on a ladder. There is that feeling of change in this poem but a change one does not wish to show. Is it weakness or age or are they the same. Well done Cryptic
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