Often i wonder why I turn myself
into parched words inside a bottle, wait
for someone not thirsty enough to cork
me in and cast me out to sea. Often I
ask the wind why my life is so short on
time, but so long on desperation, that
I must yet flit from one heedless ear to
another, until I learn to emasculate
and accept sincerity in ever smaller doses…
That is until tomorrow comes,
when a breeze from seaward knocks
a lemon branch against my salt-sprayed
window pane – now an amalgam of glass and hope -
and wakes me up to thought-free running…
To a sand dune where I sit against
a sunbeam or two…
Perhaps to watch for a corkhead bobbing
to me, on the crest of a wave….

--RJB

Wow...this is really good, the imagery was amazing and it was really easy to follow. Enjoyed to read, thanks for sharing!

Very nice

Awesome!!