Baffled, and bewildered,
I stutter, ready for flight
as the cliff edge looms ahead.
My rickety bones,
cart me onwards
longing for understanding.
Reason sustains me.
In the rift between
confusion and comprehension,
language makes connections
Find other wordlers here
About https://vivinfrance.wordpress.com
All poetry, prose and pictures posted here, except where otherwise stated, is my own, and may only be used elsewhere with my expressed permission.
Please don't be inhibited from correcting my bloopers and making suggestions: Most of what I post here is instant, ill-considered and off-the-cuff, in serious need of editing.
Vivinfrance's Blog 
Your language is a treat.
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Yes, can even be the chains that bind. Nice one!
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‘Rickety bones’ jumps out, doesn’t it, Viv? Now why should that be? 🙂 🙂
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Well done!
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Language is a moveable feast…as we get more rickety it certainly requires a little modification…i love how rich the poem feels…a lot in a little maybe?
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Language is riches
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My guess is that you are fluent in French so you are probably adept at making connections.
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Guilty as charged!
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Beautifully done Viv.
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