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Spinning Wheels

Stillness, but for spinning wheels
In my head, in vain to feel
Pull it up
Retrieve that meaning
That I can’t quite, am not gleaning

What is this?
It’s so familiar
Focus now, distill it from air
Pluck it out, like floating weeds
Spiky stars
Dandelion seeds

Fingers close, believe it’s caught
Open hand, you’re holding naught
Nowhere to go, to look it up
File not found
My mind is stuck

Being so used to instant access
Resourcelessness just feels so helpless
Resigning you to sit and wait
Until a weed star floats your way

Caught upon a chancy breeze
Not by way of tapping keys
Typing words, then hitting enter
Instead
You just have to remember.

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Copyright © 2015 - 2017 by Talia Russell
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical means without written permission of the author.

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