Drowning in Poetry
by A.J. Huffman
Pages crest like waves, crash
against my feet.
The tide is rising, swallowing my conscious
The words run
together, pack tight, soggy grains
in child’s pail
I hope to flip them over, build
a castle or fort
to crawl inside. Instead the moat grows
fins, teeth. I am
trapped inside my own creation,
for remnants of letters that might fit
to frame a bridge.
A.J. Huffman is a widely published poet. Her new collection, Another Blood Jet, is available from Eldritch Press. She is a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee and is the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. Her email is firstname.lastname@example.org and her press site is at www.kindofahurricanepress.com. As a featured poet, she welcomes correspondence from other Journal writers.
Photo credit: Small Bridge and Beach. Encyclopædia Britannica ImageQuest. Retrieved 22 Jun 2015, from http://quest.eb.com/search/107_293793/1/107_293793/cite