There you are – all of you
Standing at attention
Ready for an inspection.
Are your jackets clean, dust free?
Yes.
But I see a speck here and a little there.
Wait.

Does History precede Fiction (or Is History made of Fiction)?
Does Poetry weigh the same as Narrative?
Biography and Comics?

Philosophy beckons with a cynical smile – To be or…
Languages jostle for priority
Religion advises “Let It Be”

All these are mere ripples.
For Emily and Elizabeth stand silent
Within they are the stormy sisters.
Richard and Bill nod in agreement.
Howard and Sylvia know it’s definitely zoo time
Not a Lazarus back from the grave.

Tony and Eric are composed
For they celebrate uncommon people.
Sophie, not to be left out, asserts it’s her world.

But Anne, dear Anne, cries
“Let me out, where there’s fresh air and laughter.”

Time, that little winged bird, flies with me by its side
In hand with my treasures,my sumptuous feast of words.