Speaking of the Sun


Here, there and everywhere, an acceptance of things I cannot change

the way the sun carries forth my soul

the way my hound…impeaches practicability like a troll.

Woeful lay…my expectations under an open sky.

Nonetheless…this is not a hike toward deep rooted, bulky…control.

Speaking to the glow on my skin…

Never in that…the questioning tone…

How I am made to feel unpredictable?

And in the ardor of freedom…am I remiss to ask,

Why?

Here, there and, everywhere…complacency will sit alone for the briefest of moments.

Seated at the right hand of a whistling southerly, breeze.

Hounds commence to frolic and play.

An aroma of roasted clover rises up.

Tomfoolery…lights the way.

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