By Cricket
Date: 18 June 1999

Life

Have you ever felt like 
that piece of drift wood?
The one once used to suspend shells,
and feathers, and the most glorious
treasures to be found.
A single thread of fishing line
attached to that rusty nail,
was all that kept you out of gravities grip?

On stormy days the wind would 
spin you around, try to shake your prizes loose.
Like a carnival game, "step right up".
Sometimes the little freckled face boy,
the one with the shoelace missing,
would give you a mighty twirl
just to see the your feathers dance.
The line held, the nail as well ...

As does our love.