joy in a tin pan
Thursday, March 14th, 2013Apple, cherry, Key
lime, chocolate, pecan, chess,
lemon icebox, peach.
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Apple, cherry, Key
lime, chocolate, pecan, chess,
lemon icebox, peach.
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What happened to the
lights? Murmuring, nervous laughs.
Sudden brightness stuns.
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A dull tickle grows
into unmanageable
migraine misery.
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We are not meant for
reading minds. We barely grasp
our own twisted thoughts.
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Peering from the roof
ledge, woozy from the great height,
unable to move.
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The in crowd wasn’t
seeking members, nor was it
trying to shun them.
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They all kept journals
of their deepest secrets while
waiting for big breaks.
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There’s a day for love
and grandparents and groundhogs,
but not for daring.
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The hallways echo
long after last bell with the
footfalls of stragglers.
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Ebooks hide out of
eyesight. Too much to read, yet
no stacks to cherish.
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If everyone could
fly, we would chat and floss at
30,000 feet.
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We know what we know,
no more, no less. Open eyes
to know more, no less.
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Little faces stared
at the darkness hoping to
be blinded by white.
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The earth thaws, cracks, laid
open for worms and grains of
plants. Harvest someday.
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What happened is weird
mix of what’s written and what’s
forgotten in time.
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