Horse whispers,
sees red
bucks,
clears picket fence
scarpers
heels for dust
finds a new
stamping ground.
Seems sound:
Safe and sure
As houses
Go a good brisk clip
‘Are you the captain, the crewman,
the passenger, the vessel,
the ocean?’
Chance is Lord of All!
Metaphoric…
Metamorphic…
Metarapchik…
Metamonster!
Gorgeous Krakens
and other deep creatures
engulf us
disguised as waves.
Crisp white linen sheets
on the hill
cracked and billowed
on the line
Stark wild clouds
flee eastward.
Wry, cow-towing
pines obey the storm
under the window,
under the pink drapes
Whimsy murmurs:
Rowan will Live.