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 Dec 2016 Moonsocket
Doug Potter
No sound for hours,
looked under the sofa
behind two woodstoves,
beneath the sink where only
mama goes; finally, in the cellar
covered in a week of ***** clothes,
                                    
                   ­                         kitty, Bella.
 Dec 2016 Moonsocket
ryn
The sun awaits
just beyond the horizon.
Time gets scarcer
as it bathes us
in its glow.
And our bodies can only
afford to
crumble to dust.

All that we know,
what we knew,
will only be cast...
Imprisoned.
Within the tight confines
of expiring memory.

We must pave a way
to a secret place.
A route to safety...
One that we could share.
Somewhere only we know.

I'll go to this place
where no one can.
I'll wait and anticipate
your arrival at this place...
A place only we know.
Inspired by Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know"
 Dec 2016 Moonsocket
Blossom
"Sorry I'm late sir... I ran into a strange man down my street who kept following me and asking to borrow my socks. At first I ignored him but realizing he was following me to school, I stopped to question him. When I asked him why he wanted my socks, he said he wanted to smell their musky scent. I flat out asked this man if he had a foot fettish, and he guffawed telling me he had a smell fettish. I quickly speedwalked away from the freaky man and because my nerves were so jumbled, I forgot to grab a pass in the office."

Finally notices its a female substitue, and looks at classmates to see their mouths hanging open ready to catch flies

"So... I will just sit down now"
 Dec 2016 Moonsocket
Mike Adam
Too many

The ways

Of this world

The next

Too much

To be known

In one mind

Or seed

To

Be

Sown
Our finches carry on without government
Robins are free , song filled and independent
The autumn trees ne'er proclaim a 'leader'
A catbird tends to it's affairs without a throng
of 'believers'
The homing pigeons squawk at my propensity for guitar , pen and paper , raw penchant for melody , song and fable
My friends are a shut door , a curtain pulled closed , a light switch clicked to off , a compulsion for sweet silence , a star in the western horizon
Blazed and glazed at night am I
Getting right with Randolph at twilight* ..
Copyright December 12 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
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