Last night we meshed
I woke refreshed
to don new daring visions
which sixty ticks
saw fit to fix
with multiple revisions
cold streets resist
the colored mist
too stubborn to disperse
that dreams instead
it soon may spread
throughout the universe
where mermaids garbed in vibrant kelp
submerge regret within a whelp.
Are You Reading Me?
2 comments:
Not even a whimper?
Nice poem.
Hey Roger, well there were some sounds but I'm a gentleman. Thanks,
Bob
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