Across the Fence
The writer always
wants to sing
And the singer
wants to paint
The painter fancies
he could dance
To the dancer
songs conflate
The greenest grass
it seldom grows
Where you now
make your bed
As wishes stray
and hopes betray
What might have been
—instead
(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)
Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm | Year Posted 2023
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