It was the trickle of water
from the almost frozen pipe.
Scent of last year’s lilacs
in the winds of brain.
The yellowed love note
found in the breast pocket
of long dead Uncle Philip
the proud solitary.
We were seekers divided
between doubt and belief.
Searchers for the recipe
of something other than
the already signed and
sealed.
We wanted to build our
private lake and practice
the art of swimming
there.
What better to do than
reinvent ourselves
over and over
in the small signals
of things
so huge this life
so absent.
About the Poet
Doug Bolling’s poetry has appeared in Slant, Basalt, Literary Heist, Poetry Pacific, Posit, About Place, and Writers Resist among other places. He has received Pushcart and Best of the Net nominations and several awards And lives next door to Chicago after various travels.
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.
Vita Brevis Press. 