slow down poetry is on the move

poetry slams into a corner and stops – waiting for the light to change and the ambulance to arrive

poetry takes you on a river running through the valleys of skyscrapers and mountains, through forests, across prairies – and leaves you struggling to breathe deep within its oceans

poetry moves like a leaf on a lake twirling across the ripples of a resurfacing turtle shell

poetry forces you to stop and listen-or ignore and keep going

slow down poetry is on the move

like a forest shaking from a rain storm- dead leaves glittering as the sun goes down burnt brown delicious earth

poetry is alive