Getting Stuck The silt turned mud; wet from sky rains That mimicked my tears, Blemished my soul. Splattered, my foot, sunk deep into the goo. The more I tugged and pulled, the thicker the gook became. I remained in place as thoughts swirled . A maze of indecision. Panic set in. I felt the sun warm the mud To a stiffened platform. Cemented my position. I reached for a tree branch Swung low by the wind, Rose shoeless to climb. Perched from above, My thoughts were no longer mine. The maze disappeared. I breathed a musical sigh. of chirps and trills, Heard of nature’s will.
Abbe would love to hear your thoughts. You can find her at http://www.abberolnick.com and see her various novels and essays.
