blow in the breeze I cannot
feel or see other than in its
movement afterwards and
I wonder if I am crazy in
thinking about this at all;
spiders our there somewhere
crawling about without a web,
displaced as if it were an
immigrant on foreign soil
with no regard of acceptance
and no place to go or call home;
two by fours stained and strained
live up to their reputations as
they hold open the gate to one's
imagination of a criminal past,
but without the evidence for a
conviction of my spider soul.
4Nov17
No comments:
Post a Comment