Limbo II


Swing ‘twixt hope and fear
Unending uncertainty
Our sole companion
Sweating like limbo dancers
Watching the lowering pole

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on August 11, 2018, in Poetry, Tanka and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Resonating with this metaphor, Ben. No longer is it just an abstraction. I’m feeling the depth of your words, which are masterful as always.

    Liked by 1 person

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