Written by Carl Malcolm


The beast that rocks the boat,
Sends us running, rabbit-hearted
Cringing from murky uncertainty
Bound to our beaten path

Bliss or break
Cradle to grave
Scraped knees, climbing trees
Wrinkled ring-finger

Linger

But each and every
Rose-tinted memory
Was a dreaded change, raged against
Until it hit, and became the mundane