This is not fair
by grimbeau
On my way here,
Demi-lucid
Supine in
a white
wheelie
bin,
guess what?
What?
got some treasure
fallen it was
like a woman
loose, heavy,
easy display:
golden showers!
Reef
obtuse lanquid splashes
lit dense wet grass,
teasing out
emerald,
silver crystal
ephemeral sprites:
like
trinkets, but too
quick, robust,
capricious to pocket,
to show off
after
to softer, bolder presences…
Noon’s Guys gathered round,
casting shorter shadows,
Origin – a higher calling:
sotto voce potentates,
you know the sort,
plotting spring offensives
left me none the wiser
in fact
Sort of stiff,
jabs in brachia,
pains more swamped than killed.
Still a worry thought
cause for concern
thence diversion.
Two, no three, doughnuts.
Whoosh! Guess what?
It had gone.