In someone else's winter
light a torch to a campfire -
watch the heat raise a blister,
melt the barb off a Suit's wire.
We are nature's marionettes
on the fringe of Earth's wild rug
not chasing Ungettable Gets -
talons of Class feel our tug.
We massage Reality's bruise
and stow away a Pail of love -
the hippies' life we do choose
putting flowers in your gun.
A tangle of arms and smiles,
waves whisper at our chorus -
we do without Money's wiles -
and Peace strums softly for us.
oh that is a wonderful response to today's prompt... as if it just rolled off your tongue... curtain call
ReplyDeleteNice. The second stanza is my favorite.
ReplyDeleteReally nicely done! I love the idea of us as nature's marionettes on the fringe of earth's wild rug!! Very nice image and thought.
ReplyDelete