We are masters of the unsaid words, but slaves of those we let slip out. ~Winston Churchill

12.06.2012

Moments

Stirring inside the deep lagoon.
The boy planned to jump with out a splash.
He glanced left.
He glanced right.
And with one spring.
His muscles twitched.
Launching him airborne.
High.
The wind carried him.
The air tickled him.
He was as he wished to be.
A bird.
And.
In a moment.
A Fish.

No comments:

Post a Comment