sailing free

if I am such a genius,
why am I not out there
on that sailboat,
feeling the wind take me,
feeling like I am on the verge
of being free;
why am I sitting at this
grey picnic table,
noticing the verdant contrast
of the overcast sky
and the rolling green grass
as it slopes toward the sea,
dragging my eyes to
the ever-widening circles
the gulls make in search
of breakfast,
as the man runs with
bandaged knees, and the kite
approaches Heaven?



June 28, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.