It’s JUST a poem!

Never in Florida have I seen leaves like this. I was hoping they would inspire a poem. I took these today while out for my mindful walk. I didn’t realize the dark turn it would take but that IS poetry. Interpret as you like:

I know I’m sinking

Arms I’m reaching

But I know I’m tired now

I see the red trees

So so clearly

Through the…

Oh I’m going down.

You all see me

Please can’t you reach?

No! Don’t turn around!

An air bubble rose

My skin became cold

I curled sand between my toes

Felt the green weeds

Between my finger tips

I blew from my lungs


As life left from my lips.

The yellow leaves blurred from my eyes

I thought back to the sounds

I’d memorized

Those that fought to keep me alive

Helped me survive


They willed me

To let go

Of your empty words.

Each bird I knew

By the whoosh of the air

I knew when each

Joined me peacefully there.

The flutter of the wing

Or the long slow beat

I knew them by the landing of their delicate feet

Whether touching down on the prairie grass

Or the ponds

I knew them

By their varying songs

And the dragonflies

That came along

These were

My final thoughts.

I had this deep empty


I knew the birds

Yet no one

Knew me.

Not even

One single line

Could any describe

The way I could

Of a bird

So intricately


No one

Made time.

My perfect ending

Won’t be happening today

As I float to the surface

And meet the falling rain

I did wait

Long enough

I’d say


Being my


But you never came

You just

Never came.

I drifted down the river

Past the yellow and red leaves

The roots

The cypress knees

The deer watching

The owl’s screech

The hawk swooped low.

They know

Just like they’ve always known

I’m finally going home.

14 thoughts on “It’s JUST a poem!

  1. Bethany: It’s what you (or part of you) are feeling. That’s important. Can you gentle that little part as you gentle so many creatures, big and small, pretty and not-so-much?
    Keeping you in mind. TS

    Liked by 2 people

    • Many of my poems are based on a fleeting thought, a commercial that pissed me off, a comment someone made, a nightmare I had. If I put something into poetry form I can often turn a thought into a story and then create with it. I prefer it to be thought of as artistic and I like others to interpret it in their own way and not necessarily based on why I wrote it which is why I don’t always say why. It could also be totally fiction.
      This poem I thought of when I was standing under a tree last night, looking at the birds on the prairie and remembering how it felt to sit on the bottom of my lake growing up and watch the sky through the water


    • Thank you very much. I appreciate you reading it and just letting me be. Many don’t understand that words cannot fix depression which is where I am right now. So just appreciating the poem is perfect.
      I loved the trees. I stood under them and really loved looking at each leaf

      Liked by 1 person

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