Flotsam and Flotillas
Her voice floats up into the early spring evening
A bird song floats back over the drone of a small plane
A cottonwood fluffball floats its way to the ground
In front of a row of chairs, unseen by the outdoor audience.
Our minds float along their separate pathways
As the music floats thought our heads
Drifting, buoyant on the pool of thought,
Free of the weigh…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Wanderings with Kate to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.