Stuck Here


DSC_0011Stuck Here

Sitting on the weathered

front porch and watching

the placid lake splayed

before me in splendor and

the dense, heady evergreens

towering heavenward, I hear

the wild geese honking and

smell the pine. The morning

sun scrubs my face with

light—the kind that seeps

to the bones and provides

a certain depth of

beauty and singular



My feet are fitted for

shoes ready for

the health benefit of

walking and my mind

embraces the discipline,

but I am stuck here on the

still water’s comfort,

gleaming clear and blue,

the sunshine penetrating

the shadowy parts of me.

I think I’ll just sit here, soaking,

healing, until I’m full. This

too is discipline


©Bonnie Saul Wilks

Lake City, Colorado



One Comment Add yours

  1. Knar Westacott says:

    Bonnie my dear. Your poetry always speaks life. When I read this, I felt as though I was sitting on your porch. Thank you. Much love! Be blessed!

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