Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Poetry Circus: Descent off Swing Set.


The dreams always
started the same way with me
on a swing set.
Swing set bolted,
firmly to the ground, I kicked
higher and higher, up.
Then I would fly
to my favorite cloud, only
to fall off,
I yearned to be free of the swing...
BUT
               down - down-down.
 Decending in Air
               down the White Rabbit's Lair:
I went, grabbing onto the air,
but my hands slipped.
I plunged into
the depths of ocean waves
drifting me away.

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