Will o’ the Wisp          

The essential you

surfaces

every now and then

A brief flicker

like a firefly at dusk

which   trapped in a jar

dims its light and dies

So you

in the murk of old age

submerge

Lift from the bog

tease me toward light

for a few

precious moments

Escape           

I sink through sun-riffled water

Lie buried in kelp

on bone-dusted sand

Tough green ribbons

of seaweed wrap my body

From my lungs used bubbles of air

drift up a light-ray

I turn off my head lamp

fold my straining ears

taste stillness

with the edge of my mind

Published in Möbius, 2006

Page 4

© Copyright, Patricia Wellingham Jones.
All Rights Reserved.