Through weary eyes

caked with grains of sorrow

we as children

squinting in the glare of day

summon image of our choosing

conjure form from chaos

coat bitter pill with sticky syrup

warmed by the fire of our longing

for simpler days that never were


With clumsy hand

palms made wet with fear

we grasp at braided tether

wrench against ripping tide

grope for simple truth

moored below the surface

in spongy meadows of limbic lobe


hijacked by the child

that lives within


Daily Post Keyword:Simple


About Phil

Hi, my name is Phil. I’ve managed to escape the corporate world, rid myself of excess belongings, travel the country extensively in my old Winnebago, and find a new home on a beautiful barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico. I define myself as: a free spirit, a writer, a philosophical anarchist, a poet; a lover of nature, a lover of art, a protector of animals, as well as a devoted friend and partner
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