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Thicket
by Glenn CurrierWhy do I reserve a slice of my brain
as a gloomy thicket to obscure
the worms of worry squirming
in my shadowy psyche?
Why do I shun the termite frights
that eat the fiber of hope
the seeds of possibility
ready to grow in fertile soil?
When all I have to do
is face the fear
and cast the light of language
to vanish it. 11/24/2007 Posted on 11/24/2007
Copyright © 2024 Glenn Currier
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/24/07 at 04:29 PM Mighty is thy forging together of pen and sword Sir Glenn. |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 11/24/07 at 04:50 PM Because if you didn't, the world might never know... |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 11/25/07 at 05:21 AM Great poem Glenn. One thing that bothered me. does this mean your brain is full of fertile soil? ~(8^D)=......Charlie |
| Posted by Mary Ellen Smith on 11/28/07 at 11:56 PM Very vivid! A good description...I like the positive end. |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 11/29/07 at 02:28 AM Had me "crawling" there for a bit! LOL!! Quite a descriptive analogy! One either panics or takes control of the mind's rude wanderings! |
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