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 |    10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
| We listen to him personify whiskers on his face, narrating how they escaped the razor. Wily, spry, gray rebels sprung free, sproing! from the shadowed, pale patches in unchartered regions 'neath his chin and cheek that mock a groggy, wrinkled face, before black brows muscle up on his forehead, when he's stopped, reminded again, that it’s Sunday and he is not yet dressed for church, if he's going. And so, his shadow darkens the hall back to the bedroom to start the morning over again. He rolls open the top dresser drawer. Two black socks peer back at him. Are we going to play? 7.18.21 19 lines, freeverse Something I made up today from the poem open about my personifying and narrating that can both amuse and annoy, though mostly the latter, if you ask them. |
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