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

This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection CORNER OF MY MIND available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats.