My poems are written with rhyme, reason, and form.
But I feel like I’m rushing to pack the words before a coming storm.
I scurry about, trying to figure it all out.
Every angle and space creates the perfect place for each treasured embrace.
So why must I hurry? And feel all this worry?
Is it a hurricane? A tornado? Or maybe an earthquake? Even worse… A tsunami!
Precious Moments should be Preserved.
Not the precipice of escape, where all hurry about losing their senses and place.
What happened to all the superheroes wearing capes?
They were supposed to help us evolve from this degenerate time in space.
Instead I retract in house of mirrors.
Many sizes and shapes and various angles to gauge, make contortions and distortions.
At first I’m afraid, then I laugh as I
realize that this journey was not for me made.
Because many of the reflections I see, I am certain are not of me:
A glimpse of another’s moment of wholeness as if I airbrushed a layer of gold,
then trickled to the eves to be washed away with the mold.
All my glory absorbed, I meander the stream with debris: leaves, twigs, an acorn, and a dead spider
until we hit the concrete splash block to restart.
Cover Photo Image by Rudy and Peter Skitterians from Pixabay, Tornado Photo by NOAA on Unsplash, Hurricane Photo by NASA on Unsplash, Earthquake Photo by Shefali Lincoln on Unsplash, Tsunami Photo by Todd Turner on Unsplash, Photo by Sigmund on Unsplash, Lego Superheros Photo by Yulia Matvienko on Unsplash, Dog Superhero Photo by Elias Castillo on Unsplash, Woman Superhero Photo by Michelle Cassar on Unsplash, Mirror house Image by ChiemSeherin from Pixabay, Cat at gutter Photo by Rūta Celma on Unsplash
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