Once the flowering 

of thought

is underway,

the season will adjust

to the new moon

and we’ll hope 

for stars to peep

through the clouds.


Proper thought

yields to poetry

and the muse takes over


Wonderful things happen in the mud

as a pigeon steals my beer


and the seagulls
somehow yet manage

to swipe my ice cream


The inate silliness

The inate chilliness


The rain curtailed

my walk

and I just stayed home

chirping away

on a computer

pining about the summer

that hasn’t been.


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allets's picture

In The Mud Stealing Pigeons

I hate it when they steal my beer. - :)



georgeschaefer's picture

It's terrible.  And I think

It's terrible.  And I think they're being paid to do it.  Of course I'm just paranoid.

Stephen's picture

Interesting write. -- Stephen