One hundred pennies
Might seem like
They are of the same value
Yet
Pennies are harder
To keep track of.
Lose one here,
Another one there
And soon you no longer have One Hundred.
Then there is the one bad penny
That corrupts more
With each appearance it makes.
So I would rather
Have Four dear friends
Than One hundred Acquaintances.
Trauma or Joy.
Either and both
may be passed along.
Knowingly or Unknowingly.
Our mistakes haunt us.
Our love connects us.
Prince or pauper
we are all human
and all deserve being here.
Things are getting warmer.
The snow is melting.
Temperatures seem to be rising.
Yet the month suggests this is too early.
February is warmer than it should be.
Are we still sure about climate change
because I see the signs all around me.
Incorrigible in the extreme.
Red Flags and Trigger Warnings.
Trolls under the Bridge.
Images of Sunsets and Flowers at Dawn.
Rain colliding with upturned Faces.
Comfort when nothing is said at all.
Nutrients.
Soil connects.
Seeds grow.
Roots branch.
Plants flourish.
Animals eat.
We walk
and dismiss
that beneath our feet.
If ever there was a poem
That explains itself
In its title.
Needing little else.
Categories to slot
Your idiosyncrasies into.
Medical terms
Foreign sounding
And wrong.
Yet it explains so much
And allows you to move forward
Knowing why
You are different.
Your new neighbourhood.
In Las Vegas.
On the moon?
This game gets weirder and weirder.
But at least it is fun.
Bathroom walked to.
Lights still off.
Sleep escapes.
Continue wandering the house?
Or toss and turn
while imagination runs turbid?
Sleep.
Sleep in.
Wake up.
Waking up.
Breakfast and Coffee.
Choking not recommended.
And of we go to the rest of the day.
