Blue 1

BLUE The rain startled the clouds and fell like a scare of possibilities. The day toggled from then to now like a withering widow A flustered squirrel sat and squirmed and still nibbled at a dry stump like eliciting poetry off ancient prose Some never knew the intent of need others feigned disinterest in inquests turning over their earths again and again I read the prognosis of your vertigo And derived a rider. That it was mere Math to team up or to sleep in the buff An unpredicted rite of passage after all shenanigans stand erased to uncover new aquifer in antique spandrel. To discover that the sky was never this blue. 10 Nov 13 For Chris' contest