Senses - Farberism's Freewriting 12/29/24
Meaning changes depending on where I read.
Words transform with the places I write.
Neither, yet both, are shaped by my thoughts,
Which drifts with the space where I choose to think.
It has to touch me, to be honest.
Feelings waver, tethered to moments—
Where I stand when words are spoken or fail.
What I hear changes with time and place,
Echoing how I feel and where I listen.
What I see bends with my surroundings,
The sharpness of sight is shaped by its light.
The ocean’s scent shifts as I approach—
At the shore, it’s briny and wild,
At home, it lingers soft, a distant dream.
Taste, unbound by where I am,
Answers only to my tongue.
There is no constant.
Nothing stays.
All is fleeting—
Shaped by where I am.
Peace,
Chris
PS I wrote a poem. I am trying to flex myself a bit here. Happy Holidays to all of you, whatever you're celebrating.
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