dogged and resolute
she was on the hunt—
not sure for what
but insistent in the search

she sought for spirit’s slipstream
like a cyclist seeks the wake
peddling behind a rider
to propel herself along

relieved to find her rhythm
with companions by her side
she rode into that vacuum
for something she called home

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

One thought on “slipstream

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