More curious and less certain these days,
quieter and easily led.
History?
Is there such a thing?
Gentle confusion that paces
like a cat at midnight
wanting nothing but movement
motion
acknowledgement.
It’s pleasant enough
let us invent some meaning.
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Tags: Australia, Gentle Confusion, Mark Spence, Poetry, Port Macquarie, Writing
September 29, 2014 at 12:09 AM |
This is lovely!
Gentle confusion hurts my head. It makes me think too hard.
September 29, 2014 at 3:49 PM |
Thank you for reading. Hope to catch you again in Melbourne soon enough xoxo
September 29, 2014 at 5:19 PM
For sure! Let me know when you’re back in town. Xo❤️