You (a poem)
The tides draw me
relentlessly,
toward the distant shore.
As the moon moves
effortlessly,
high above the waters.
The tides draw me
relentlessly,
toward the distant shore.
As the moon moves
effortlessly,
high above the waters.
We stand up, shout out, punch up, and don’t punch out until the message is heard loud and clear.
I flay myself
on the altar of art,
cut down to the bone,
break every last part.
I write it on paper,
type it into my phone,
share it with the world,
and feel utterly alone.
Creating art is an intentional act
of learning about oneself
and the world around us.
Art is…
A poem is not found
in an abundance of words.
Nor is it unnecessarily complex.
Poetry is found in the heart
and in the connection it makes.
© 2009-2026 E.L. Redwine