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I Float in the Alternate Sky |
The one that is wet
And smells like grass surrounds
All limbs stretched
A la Leonardo da Vinci
The sun cooks my skin
Like I was a cookie
Half of me submerged
In the lake of muffled hearing
So my eyes search the blue
For other suspended travelers
Until my fingers and toes
Turn into raisins
Then I emerge, a soaked beast
Lumbering to a structure
Where I can create thoughts
Of cars whooshing past houses
Just to step in the original soup,
Feel creation from the first electricity
copyright 2014
Don Kingfisher
Campbell |
