Poem

An existential nap said the philosopher. 
Now to open the windows said the pupa.

Difference is time said the button to the loop.
Said the city alley to the constellations, like siblings.

A concoction of wit and frivolity
Cooks up its own stature of poetry.

The moon is a forgery, a reflection of the past.
As it is a breathing monument to the present.

The dirt road, strictly in the metaphysical sense,
Said the horizon, said the dragonfly.

15 thoughts on “Poem

  1. koalaperson25's avatar koalaperson25 says:

    Whenever I read your poems, I’m fascinated by the processes by which you might have arrived at this particular organization of words. Lovely as always!

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  2. The kick off to this poem, the nap to the napless switching to the pupa’s perspective followed by some of your patented flows of surprises – “the moon a forgery,” beautiful and that image of a butterfly at the horizon – memorable. I haven’t seen a dragon fly yet this year.

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    1. Thanks Steve! I’ve seen some dragonflies in my yard. Usually not too many. I think the cats get to them. But I could be wrong. Brewers still the best record in baseball!

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