Treasure Chest (day 2131)

Rambling when I remembered to stop
A limb broken and I heard it drop
Methodically stripping naked
A consciously wrapped envelope
Placed at the trunk of a mighty old oak
Who waved back and forth
Silly gamblers marching about
To the tune of engines
Sputtering confusion
And lay raindrops upon folded corners
Which shall leak kava upon this ancient floor
Upon which I rest upon
To humbly assess the treasure chest.

Holy Boats (day 1956)

Blame not the recharge
Left slowly puddling into a dark corner
Of this uneven hardwood floor,
Nor should holy boats
Hold these oars tightly so.
Thee witness’ callused palm
Scrapes dry a soiled seat,
And a martyr hangs listlessly
As townsfolk carry on.
Mild wind blows a crooked sign
Making rust set within,
Harder then an open wound
Stronger then the sun.

Flight (day 1548)

I cycled home as fast I could
To feel wind blow me good,
It circled around my ears and
Lifted me up just so.

As I rounded my last corner
Each pedal that I threw
Made me feel like a nimble bird
Dancing amongst a cloud

The saddest part was when I came
To a familiar door
Which my bronzing key fit just right;
My flight had come to end.

Flight by Ned Tobin