Punching Water – A poem


PunchingWater

Punching Water

If I had to describe  what  life was like

I would say it’s like punching water.

I flail with fists at this simple concoction of

wondrous matter with wild abandon.

Yet it feels no pain,  no emotion

Bruised knuckles connect to its surface

breaking the stream,

It simply cascades around my skin.

Surface tension,  caused by its bi-polar nature

reforms the flow after my useless flinging

of flesh has ceased.

My presence barely felt.

Strength is spent, muscles on fire,

breathing labored

I give up the fight

and  cup my hands to take a drink.

by Philip Wardlow 2014

hands-in-water

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