A brunch walk by the water…with feathered sheep.
With feral tabby’s.
Disposed mongrel mutts.
Going as far as, the imagination will stroll.
Over the rainbows, and the, sun-showers, in the distance,
a bell tolls for…another other coven.
Born to be strays.
Setting bonfires to the vanities.
With the array of disarray, the caged birds sing.
a poet’s poet…need not be by my side.
There will be no bridges to gap.
For our words have always met.
Had brunch by the water with poets and friends.
Up in the air,
a bell tolls another poignant soul,
up around the bend.