Poem: Drifting In

Going away and then circling, setting wings and drifting in to the common pond that binds us.

Drifting In

The American joints in Prague
Islands of regret, yin and yang,
turned on by common language
Return to the herd from isolation,
a removal sometimes too distant

Familiar words and glances,
slivers of invitation, slices of turning away
“Brokaw said…,”  the words fade out,
piercing female laughter, strident, American
A herd call, that warns of predators

Exclamation of the ill at ease being easy
Unsettled settlers, circle words like wagons,
huddled for warmth around a common fire
“Can you imagine a pickup line like that…,”
Words from Chicago, faster than the planes

Recognition, pulling species to species
Desert watering holes, where no one drinks,
sensing lions, edging near to paw the mud
Sniffing one another, checking out our kind,
drifting in from distant plains, but not for long
Poetry Collection: Corner of My Mind
This poem is included in
Jim Freeman's
poetry collection

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