Day #18– Storm She Couldn’t Understand

Girl Gone to Her Senses

Before the music played
Our luck swooned
And we tossed ourselves
Into a swivet. Puff went
All the musts of our intentions.
A washer, a dryer
A camouflaged daughter, we sang.
The cloth went over the spoon.
Downpour. It came across
Daytime’s furrow of the moon.
When the mist unleashed,
You could see it, that pause
Before you were wet with it.
Girl feigning synesthesia
Caught in all the soak
She couldn’t hear or see.
A washer, a dryer
A camouflaged daughter
Played the band in encore.

Day #17– I walked out of the film “White Dog.”

How to Have Opinions

Nap, said the monkey and we burst from our sofas.
Longer, said the parrot and we stretched our legs.
No, said the elephant. He was traveling today.

Rough cuts are in the can.
Checks are in the mail.
The world goes on again.

Shiny up our gravel in the rock tumblers
And desalinate the water for our lawns.
Make our dirt mean something.
I have lists. Trails are there to carry on.