Randomly Yours

strewn thoughts The skinny dog snoozes on the graveyard's lawn at ease with the stillness of the night The fruit of the carob tree looks like a cotton pickers hand on an autumnal beach a bottle of suntan oil tells how the summer was A lone streetlamp sways a drunk staggers home he used to be an actor, stops and sing A seagull fancied to be human used lotion and combed feathers shiny Alas, it was hacked to death by those that resist any change