My Whimsy

My Whimsy

Gray rust steals over a wrought iron gate.
Unconcerned, dandelion fluff skips across pitted black marble.
I lie on my back and watch white cotton wisps
twirl up and join animal shapes on a lazy stroll across a puffy sky.
Between – droopy birthday balloons roll slack on graying grass.
Their sun bleached ribbon streamers wrap and wind
a once bright pinwheel's leg.
The faded pinwheel spins with whimsical disregard,
It's steel leg buried deep
in the graveyard.