Where Are You Now?

Alone on an island, seeking someone to speak to

The thoughts of my living, of all the things that ensue

But no one is near, and my words fade and go

Yet I have a method, that I’ve come to know.


I speak into the wind, but it blows back in my face

Circles my head, and disappears without a trace.

Like a song it is similar, it fades just as it is heard

It’s just notes and tones, and a few little words.


So I come to write, just to share it, good or bad

And hope that it pleases, teases, or even makes one sad

For an echo is not an echo if there is no rebound

It’s the tinkling of music, notes hitting the ground


So I travel to Book island, though it’s said to be a game

But sharing what I have to give, hoping it isn’t all the same

I want no extra points, nor to score higher than the rest

Getting it out and sharing, has always been the best.


Barbara Blackcinder


About Barbara Blackcinder

I am a poet/writer with a need for words. There are so many out there that I haven't used yet. They define all reality and mine when you read those from me.
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