Gone to seed

Benjamin Jenkins, life, poem, poems, poetry, writing

The footprint is unavoidable.

My soles impress the Earth with pressure;

Gravity’s lovesick pull.

What am I to do?

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The Flat Pane of Time

Benjamin Jenkins, Cape Cod, life, New England, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Sit down to

Chickadee calls,

Electrical buzz of heat bugs.

Sailboats float Long Pond,

From where I sit on the bluff-

They could be shark fins.