By: Alex
Placid are waters
Which conceal turbulence,
Churning under film
Of obedience.
Deeper, far deeper
Runs the channel.
Hidden from view
And kith and ken.
Carries the flow;
Peace is striated
Torn by persistence
Of memory and thought.
Rattles the trap,
Shakes the cage,
Banded glory,
Shattered age.
Poet’s truth tells
Eggshell blues;
Distorted meaning
Inveigled news.
And so do waters
Change their state;
Frozen expansion
Surfeit of reason.