Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Tonic Water in Dry Places

If clouds were blue and the sky was white, I would still be sitting here, marveling at the beauty of it all.
If night was day and day was night, I would sleep during the day and all would be all right.
But if grass was red, I would miss the green without knowing why.
Sometimes a tea kettle is silver and other times it might be orange.
Steam or not, it's a tea kettle and definitely not a puppy.
But if it was a puppy, perhaps I would find it to be a cute steaming puppy.
Crayons either color paper or erase polish from a page, like a sage writing his biography and eating corn off the cobblestone path.
Turning left too many times makes you go right, until you go left.
Screeching standards by way of claw marks across the board--freedom was the lesson, I think.
Baby bicycle steps reverberating in the eye of the beholder.
Pillows for your thoughts and tonic water in places that were meant to stay dry.
Hardly wondering what wandering feels like for a frog in search for a fly.
If up is down and down is up, I wonder who will fill my cup?

No comments:

Post a Comment