Enough to wrap a baby in
There appears to be no end to the strand
The one that found its way through eye and now is held in hand
A bone from tail or fin
A pit that's filled with sand
A loom that starts to spin
When the fire pit is fanned
Better is always the question
Asked from soft beds that we rest in
If there were a rabid raccoon outside my door
I would stay inside until he found another muse for sure
While both of us are nesting
Nature says abide
Everything's infesting
Some for carcass, some for hide
Gloomy day, New York City
Move away, can't stay busy
Sewn into the landscape as a sequin
Always hoped to shine out like a beacon
Neither individual nor committee
Justify what you're seeking
But you find it befitting
A pure havoc worth reeking
Finding a foe to pin
We want to make it grand
It's not in the wrestling
Finished product ends with pride
--
4.2.09
Comments