Washed wander wetlings dropped raw into the abyss
Split silent spat on false ground fed to the fire
Perfection dancing in raindrops whirling winds of lost chances
Speechless nostalgia torn back from careless slumber
Nothing left to determine who’s who and what’s what
Gliding bashfully on inspiration and impulse
Hop scotch and candy canes drawing nothing out of arrested bliss
Coffee cups and cigarettes plays double dutch to feel a bit
Dark shades upon the eyes to see another’s glory in fear to fade your own flame out
Sinking mud to swallow shallow formations in loose concrete paying homage to backward insight
Monuments to dull creation and lost dogs to give up the fight
Ghosts blowing tears off lady liberty and fairy godmother wrapping Alice in a blanket of wool
Warm bunnies crawling out of the wall to catch a frog tumbled hopefully from the sky.
Accepting love donations to contribute to my writing quest. No amount is too small to keep the dream alive. "A buck don't suck"