Low rumbles are followed by a cacophony of lies.
The light dances off pasty white globules,
and for a monochromatic moment,
I pause.
Before diving deeply into the pastels of sunset.
There just a touch of cobalt.
Suddenly forest greens breathe with the sharpness of pine,
awakening my senses,
as I listen to the casual commands of apathetic authorities.
Now bursts of yellow force me to....
blink blink their brightness away,
as suns are born.
Ruddy orange leaves the palate of my eyes,
dry and parched.
Interrupted by the desperate plea of,
"We must be quiet and dignified."
I the drift into the darkness.
The curving criss-crossing paths,
like shadowed alley ways,
leading me down a maze,
of young beat boxers dressed in sweater vests,
Mary janes follow,
tights worn knee high.
Just a drizzling of french vanilla,
and the chaos is complete.
No comments:
Post a Comment