Pinching

Poems  29 Comments

I am stuck 
at the beginning, 
pinching
at rice like 
the expectant mother
pausing 
out of breath
mid-stair.
The other side is often pregnant. 

Intention grows 
even in 
chilled winds,
germinating while 
we fixate elsewhere,
though 
I don’t always recognize 
its birth.
Tomorrow takes its own word for granted.

Ambition shoves us 
forward, 
though I wish
I could
stop long enough 
to admire
the track, rushing, 
stuck at the
start. 
Light thaws in its own time.

Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

Written for several prompts:

Phillip Knight Scott My name is Phillip. I live in North Carolina with my wife of 11 years and 3-year-old son, and at least for the next year, I’m on the right side of 40. (Both the interstate and existence, in years). I am a Tar Heel born and bred, and watch every Yankees game I can. My goal is to visit all 30 MLB stadiums in the next 10 years. I’ve been to 5 so far! Obviously I enjoy writing, but I also enjoy watching and reading sci-fi. I’m slowly attempting to finish my first novel, a “humorous” sci-fi romp which may be finished one day. I am a Doctor Who obsessive and choose Star Trek over Star Wars.

29 thoughts on “Pinching”

  5. You snagged me at frozen light; what a concept. Life can be fitful, with wheel spinning and gear grinding, and lethargy, followed by epiphany and growth.

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  11. I seem to know exactly what your paradox feels like, in my spirit, I mean:
    “…rushing,
    stuck at the
    start.
    Light thaws in its own time.”
    This relates to Linda’s poem too on the futility of expecting things according to our own timing. They’ll be born — we’ll be born — when we’re ready.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  13. Pingback: Five Links 11/16/19 Traci Kenworth – Where Genres Collide Traci Kenworth YA Author & Book Blogger
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