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Bottled
Drivel in a puddle
Cried my tears
The bowl is dry
The water is a wonder we all need there is no why
The water is life
The life is for the all
We can not keep our pigeon read
We only seam to fall
There is a crawl up a way side
There is a demon in the tree
You should not question every feeling , the sky is the ceiling
This is only a dream
Nothing is as it seems and it will never be so
Only one time
Sometime
Can I begin
From where I started from?
The lord is a word
The meaning is old
The vulture’s a bird
Not one scrap left for thee
Me? I see you
I can be beneath you
In the clouds
catching your shine
Not mine. No
Mine is a long soft wave
The song of a swan
The honk of a goose in my feathers
Warm like the hot water bottle by my feet
The crickets make sounds that I will never forget
Chirping us all to sleep until the next season comes
The high tides
The Bay of Fundy
The rocks show early
The fish swim sparkling
The same as we all keep moving and shining in our own way.
Everything is all the same in a way that it isn’t at all
Separately equal only makes sense as a philosophy
But everything is equally absurd
Before the lightning strikes
Before the crow caws in the morning
The mist is thicker than the shaving cream my Papa never used
My goat is bearded
The lamp is lit
The fire is cracking
My fun is never a lack
I have sight to see
I have sounds to hear
My touch is connected to my brain
It is shocking
The memory
The strange details
The inability to forget
The chore of remembering
Not as delightful as the chores of a farm
My old body is going
I wish it wouldn’t take you so long
This experience has filled me
To burst into an entire new Universe
Copyright ©
C.M Charron
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