got it locked away

Happy Sandwich

Beauty’s the butterfly of age,
age the flower of youth.

Catching up to the rat wheel
takes money, time, desire,
and I’m short all three.

Invisible patty-cakes on the Zen back of night,
or the sad middle notes of an old 50’s song?
Both fine soundtracks
for yet another Walking Monkey Production
(believe it’s the old-timers with Alzheimer’s
who’re running the show).

Still, the setting sun climbs the tree
lays along its leaves
and watches layered light
sink slow below the surface
of our 3rd floor Victorian window
and I feel eased.

Go eased, young ma’am, go eased.

– Smith, 7.11.2017

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