There is safety in apart-ment living;would corral the little ones, declareresponsibility, obligations as a maskfor this self-banishing compulsion… except that I am lying prone, exposed –brains spilling onto concrete – shadowsrevealing the darkness of my condition,hopelessly locked in physical inertia. I am an unwitting contributor toscientific (and pseudo) probing:audacious autopsies pronouncingconclusive evidence of motives. Too […]
Not programmed to comply –cannot tolerate oppression:a pressure cookerready to explode Do-gooders sit upstraight and smileencouragement:I slouch defiance Don’t ask me to respectthat which is disrespectful –my fuse is shortof that I’m certain Don’t slot me;leave me –creative inspirationis not lacking here I’m a free agenta incorrigible scamp –authority doesn’t scare me’cause I’m beyond control. […]
Every child bears the sparkof eternity’s promise…Where’s the threat in that? What mechanism of hateequates slaughterof innocents with justice? This is society’s bane –the unconscionable policiesof greed lacking accountability (Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Beautiful.
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Thank you!
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Beautiful, VJ., and it’s nice to see and read about the warm days of summer.
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Thanks Eugenia. I agree. Nice to be reminded.
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A lovely poem to accompany the lush and verdant scenes, V.J. Thank goodness for the magic of photos to transport us to cherished moments.
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Thanks Tanja. It is wonderful to be reminded of sunnier times.
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They WILL return. Hang in there!
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Incredibly beautiful V.J.! ❤
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Glad you like it, Deborah. Thanks.
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Love this! I miss summer and all the greens.
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Thanks Lauren.
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What a beautiful and tempting photograph and verse. I look forward to seeing green outside my window again!! (well, besides the evergreens…)
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Thank you.
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You’re welcome!
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I’m counting down the days and counting up the temperature degrees – but it still seems too far away 😦
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It does! We’re feeling the draw of the southern warmth. Might have to do a road trip.
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might have to join you 😉
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Always room for one more! I can just imagine the conversation on the way down…or the fertile silence of poets minds churning.
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stop tempting me!
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Lol.
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