Drifter

DON'T open that window!
Hours searching for the right words
for my mental show & tell--and it's here!
A THOUGHT hit my mind--now it's mine.

DON'T open that window!
The in utero snapshots of my seed
will burst OUT of my soul,
leave the room,
crawl out the window,
seep back into the world.

Windows closed, my pen drifts, to find
peace in the dreams I crochet with paper.

There's me--drifting
drifting under a cumulus sky,
Interstate flooded with my stepping-stone trucks.

I play hopscotch on the freight trucks
with catlike surreptitiousness;
I claim my nighttime alley roof
in broad daylight.

I drift as I dunk the spectators' thoughts
into the ice water of my imagination.
I feel. The scorching heat
heat of the day adheres to my skin,
kissed away by the healing wind.
My cured feet, naked, they wander
above the star-studded asphalt.

Fin

You may open the window now.

~
Cheers,
Char