Deep in the pit
of my stomach
a chipmunk seems
to have gotten loose
and he’s running
and chattering
and scurrying about
looking for nuts
or some such
nonsense
I try to tell him
now just isn’t the time
he’s upsetting my breakfast
and he’ll have to pay!
toes dressed in diamonds
in sparkling dew
that tread on a carpet
of plush emerald hue
dance to music
to the finest of strings
wee crickets make music
so you can spin
whirl with abandon
before the eyes of the dawn
coy veil unfurling
of fine glossy locks
O sing to the morning!
O sing of the day!
rejoice without censure
let this moment stay
I’m Columbus
on a journey
thinking I know
where it ends
but these trees
don’t look familiar
and the faces seem
so strange
I’m Columbus
on a journey
accidentally
finding newness
in the place
I least expected
because I dared
to sail off
the edge
of the map
raspy cawing voice of crows
calling to their ancient foes
of snow and ice and wind that blows
bitter steely sound grows and grows
nipping through wool socks to toes
A red, red
Train of thought
Singular strain
Never be bought
Crazy, wild
Shifty drought
Into which
I am now caught
The Wisdom of Gavroche 