Lingering
A Random Rendering in early fall 2012
Still there, haven’t quite moved on,
Lingering, malingering, waiting in mid step.
Feel the air around you move, just the slightest breath,
Held in, held back keep your emotions in check.
A longing and littering of your soul,
limitless anticipation of the things you wish to behold.
Loves first kiss, hands held in the twilight,
a passionate moment that felt so right.
Swimming in circles against a strong tide,
knowing that not knowing is itself a surprise.
Wondering, thinking, searching for the new,
finding and enjoying all the things that are you.
Escaping in thought on long summer nights,
rushing to get them down in word out of inner sight.
Bemused by the results, hushed by the cadence,
that your words resonate with others as you write the latest.
Do they know how hard you work on each twisted line,
struggle for wit and the occasional rhyme.
It really doesn’t matter because you try not to write for others,
just to reach deep and get the words or scene about two lovers.
Finding it hard to not write late into the night air,
others depend on you to be alert, bright and always there.
Sacrifice the muse from time to time,
hoping always that your words when you don’t are sublime.
SOK
The Threads Fiction Project 