poem from last night

I choose not to write over expressing things poorly. All my best thoughts I keep to myself because I can’t say express them with as much as they are worth. Someday I will have words and it will be like finally having wings and flying out over the sea. In the meantime, I let people read things like this.

The ripples widening outward, concavely,
long after the stone’s ‘plink’ left silence
They bother me, those ripples,
still bending, still disturbing the surface of the water.
All the while I feel it deepening –
the silence and my disbelief in what went before.