Path of Least Resistance

Walking down a dilapidated pier

Toward an uneventful horizon

Save for a blooming cloud

Spreading its wings over the horizon.


A cool breeze blows

Pushing me back from the edge

As circles spread out like pulses

Where a boy spits in the blue.


When all directions point forward

Saving grace lies in the unfolding doom

Knowing full well home is behind me–

So much depends on a breeze and a cloud.


About Michael Medlen

My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.
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