OTI:one poem:8/20/17

Open To Interpretation

 

Follow Your Rhymes

 

Sometimes sense on the run chasing us all

Chatting furry tailed fat grey squirrels

Rollicking around around before Fall

Sends us underground from Winter's snow whirls.

It should come as no surprise that we are

What we are perched atop our bones and skulls.

Fishermen pull strange fish from the sea tar,

All the same to the pier posts' waiting gulls.

What to do to distinguish me from them

But to bring you flowers with their sweet scents

I gathered from meadows the pikas hem

And bring down swift hawks to their burrowed tents.

I'll not make fun in the roil with you,

Or doubt the sense of is and isn't true.

 

DolphinWords

 

:)

 

DavidDavid