Bend down
to pickup
a piece of
reality,
to find
it fleeing
from the
one that would
be me
In another dream
in another place
that would be here
The blue
moon and
velveteen
sun shining
into
a green sky,
brighten
up what
would otherwise be
the same day
I love
you is
slapped across my face
and kicks myself
Good morning
is the
alarm
clock that
explodes in my eye
How are
you are
the whips
that break and run
down my back

© 1999 Tim D. Coulter Sr.