by Jordyn Coats
Not quite like a marble,
nor a mud slung tire,
or a failed caught Frisbee on dirt.
Resonances of silence
want to make themselves known,
but they know it's like
trying to keep static away
from inside a modern day living room.
No matter.
They keep on
and on,
leaving traces of echoes
on the slippery corners we all fall
while rounding, low and slow.
Reverberations,
here and there,
everywhere,
dancing all around...
dispersing, causing chaos,
looking for solid ground to roll on-
to work on-
to stand on.
Eventually, time forces change
and we must move on.
The skids and echoes left
are only testimonies of what will be-
what will become of us and of me.
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