at the foot of the ladder, a monkey fell~
six stories of rungs and she rings his bell~
he sat picking daisies off his fallen spell~
hands cupping petals of air being his quell~
poor little monkey's a shaken as hell~
his eyes run circles around the pink pastel~
as shocked onlookers stand visual at his well~
in his cage, his cousin's saddened at their shell~
at the foot of the ladder, a zoo's a cell


Logan Robertson

5/20/2019

The wind is up and roaring mad
Birds and insects fly between its gusts
There is no other way
to get around
They can hear it coming
Between the crying aching limbs
and begging chimes
The wind is having at it
tossing trash cans down the street
Robbins grounded to the lawns
The wind will have its say
or pitch them against the buildings
like a threat

Love is something
other people ❤️ do

I want to hide,
Behind the warmth
Of your smile.

In a world,
That at times,
Seems
Made of ice,
Do you think
There's a chance,
We could
Light a fire
Tonight?

In this moment I am water, grey rain
I cry with trees, and all the streams running.
Fog and clouds, a twist of branches overhead
my mind, a loop concentrically swirling
a trick, the swoop and slip
the black and falling birds
scream of skies unraveling.