She SingsA Poem by danlove blossoms with a street musicianShe Sings
As my time races up the chimney and out I wish to disappear for a while or less. My face is so chapped by the bright piles of snowmen racing into the street to die in a rundown (baseball?). I’m bewildered and bare. For now?
She crept into my life like a yacht in the fog, that glowing cat (from Cheshire) splashing smiles across her face. Her guitar case was opened in case litterbugs threw money there while she sang like a violin played with a crossbow. As I melted toward her she let go a laugh as dainty as teacups: My heart was just bouncing around like the wind storms decorating my tree (at home). My tea cup was full, and my heart wore a grin.
dan © 2015 © 2015 danReviews
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