Tuesday, January 24, 2017

poem of the day January 24


An old piece of driftwood
was far from the sea
Sitting on a stand 
in a house built by man
I had it on a shelf
for all to see
the pretty wood
shaped by the sea
It looked like a man 
tossed around by his mind
floating on water passing time
I wonder if it was
adrift like me
in the ocean of life
we call destiny?

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