in the morning, yellow
and large -- the largest
you've ever seen --
a moon sits above
the horizon.
cars drive into her,
and the stiff, cold
air ticks by, and she
disappears second-
by-second. soon sky
surrounds sky, the blue
tints toward a lighter
shade. satellites continue
to spin, fixing themselves,
situating for their next go-around.
Well, it looks like I've majorly lapsed on the poem-a-day habit. Not to worry. I'm taking a short break to finish the Balkey story line....
“What,” the young, scarred and scabbed Scib said, “did Mr. Pin calm him – Bixson-” And Balkey closed the gap as soon as the word left the...
Tell him Coral has finally gone sour and the Pin is as crooked as we all thought,” fryed Balkey and eyed the straight and tall, the...