dirt in layers now
till until the grass begins
until the fruit breaks.
life. it's holidays
dull and lose to gravity
fall, crash and trip us
life. a motor starts
a Hand turns the key
not? it's magic would not be.
you know, God?
the One that's in between thoughts?
don't tell me you don't know Him?
fresh air stiffens a spine
cleans the head, clears the mind
His fingers guide wide.
Words are stroked on pages
thin. black on white
but cut like knives. great divide.
Other pages, same in feel
thin. transparent
Brigham tome has no knives.
Welcome JBO to the den
Faceless sprites we're not
Kammer greets in hokey verse
Hey, it's all I've got!
Please note: Comments will not appear immediately. Your comment will appear upon approval by the blog's editor. We had to implement this to decrease the amount of spam that our site receives. Please forgive the inconvenience. We are looking into other, friendlier options.