I remember once, on a kayak
paddling down a river:
my movements were the only ripples.

Far from the white waters
even the trees are silent,
and the fish stay deep.

A single bird calls
from a distance,
and the echo is loud;

but the voice
of one cricket
can hardly be heard.

I see a fisherman’s line,
bobbing in the flow.

I often hear people say,
“The lonely heart is always sad.”

Then why do I smile?


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741