Poetry's Mad
a towel released cross
a sheepish floor
lizards grin at
what they adore
time stands still
feet replace hands
only the robots
shall understand
of nameless deaths
blind men sing
harmonizing
on apron strings
do racecars whir
around the track
as icecaps melt
like pancakes stacked
poetry's mad
it’s plainly seen
watching huskies howl
~ the moon doth preen
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2024
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