Three Line Thursday Week 23

Can there be joy in pain?

Release in death?

Beauty in tragedy?

Can my fingers tickle the water and play a tune?

Can my feet dance in quicksand?

Why not?

Sounds like I managed if I can write a three-line poem about it.

Picture prompt:




The pianists fingers tickled the surface, while
his other arm reached out in search of air.
Nobody saw his toes dancing in the quicksand.


Would you like to read some of the other entries?

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