I’m thrilled to share with everyone that a poem of mine has just been published on MasticadoresUSA. Thank you, Gabriela!
by M. Taggart
Wrapped around a child’s fishing pole, lives
a vibration of time steadily stamping out
a form of a memory. Time, which floats in
and out of the child’s consciousness while
inhaling the smell of pond water
mixed with the blue sky covering the tops
of the pine trees- he does wonder about time.
When does time stop.
How do we know when it’s time to go and
when does time think about us. How does
time work and why is there time. Why is
there anything. He felt a nibble on the end
of his line. The wind sent small rippling waves
toward the shoreline. He stood, with his boots
submerged only a few inches, and watched as the
wind calmly pushed the murky water passed him.
The nibbling had ceased. He stood…
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