2020 Poems


I found myself
Gripping my pencil
So tightly that
My wedding ring
Was causing pain
To shoot down my finger


Stopped long enough
To pay attention
And relax.

Another estimation
Of my repetitions
Not sure if it
Is a descent
Or a final
Ascension to
New heights so
That I might
Get a better
Point of view
My circling
Routine must
Be leading to
Something besides
Its own orbit.

By Makar

Stephen Sutherlin is a designer, poet and musician. He writes poetry about life in the southwest and enjoys metrical lyricism.

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