sunflower sunrise
Saturday, July 23rd, 2011Flowers brightened the
morning at the market like
a bouquet of rays.
• • •
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Flowers brightened the
morning at the market like
a bouquet of rays.
• • •
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The ship sailed on, blind
to the typhoons and monsters
that lie in her path.
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Too many to-dos
pull brain like taffy, stretched thin
and icky sticky.
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Go! go! go! until
the couch beckons, lulling you
into deep slumber.
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The babbling brook calls
to her as it digs into
the dirt and the dust.
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The tiny package
moved through the pipes on its way
to obsolescence.
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We wandered through the
forest like lost children who
never want to leave.
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The lights went down, the
previews began, the viewers
hushed, the magic flowed.
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Mere trappings do not
make the man, but only serve
to ensnarl his soul.
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The twist turned out to
be that everyone lived quite
normally henceforth.
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The old timers sat
and drank their cheap beer, whiling
away their problems.
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Above the blue tarps
are the missing treetops, shorn
clean by tornadoes.
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They patrol the rooms
together, snorting, sniffing,
waiting for scratches.
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The hills shimmered in
the blistering sun. Green turned
to waterless brown.
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They shared a tuna
sandwich, apple slices and
an entire park.
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