my blue Pilot pen.
not black. not red. blue.
wet ink catches light.
a momentary glimmer.
river shimmers.
my soul quivers.
dissonance whets the tip.
current runs deep.
and metal eats the riverbed.
insides tumble downstream.
blue.
Morgan E. Underwood
Theology Nerd, Lover of Stories, and Mother to One Black Cat