Poem: Pools of Words

Metaphor takes me to water and the long strokes of a canoe paddle.

Pools of Words

This poems just won’t fit
into  perfect meter, contrived to ring true
from deep inside Roget
Sometimes I can’t handle
the confines of lines and verses

I guess that’s an apology in advance,
but you’ve been on my mind
among other things, so many things
in a life of things, I need to find order
in disorder, clarity in confusion

This is the best I can do, paddling hard as I can,
usually upstream against tides and current
and every time I take a stroke
proper words slide down the blade
and run together

Is it sweat or clear cool drops streaming down my arm,
catching sunlight, running to the bottom of the boat
One in the same perhaps, thoughts and memory
tears and transgression in pools of words
Idling is what calls me, but first a few strokes more
Poetry Collection: The Smell of Tweed and Tobacco
This poem is included in
Jim Freeman's
poetry collection


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