Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 22
there is a gleam, across the valley, a reflection,
I am sure,
a man made surface shiny,
I am sure,
no natural gleam of mica or diamond
blinks and flashes
as if
signaling to me, see, see me, reflect the sun,
seeming so
a sign
a significance I must grant synchronisity,
or ,
thought, what might
this shining thing be?

It is far from me and anchored, I see,
flash,
then flashy flashflash, light of sun,
fractaled -tole painted -fatal tell
light strokes on the future seen as this again,
once
more, the curiosity, was ist das?

A little mirror insisting, see, there see,
there is the sun,
topping the hill behind you, where you are
blind,
where I lack the power to signal a flash back,
for I sit watching,
in the morning shade,
yellow birds and blue, doing what birds do,
orioles and scrub jays,

magpie eyes in me, see that gleam again,
and laugh, I know,
what that is
signaling to me, see, see me, reflect the sun,
seeming so
a sign
of the times, for my report,

- Watch man, what of the morning?

I see a happy birthday balloon,
hung on a wire,

by a wind with a knot function,
naturally anchoring
webs, and threads, and strings and mylar shreds,
dancing from power lines
feeding juice to the drip system
in George's vineyard.
_ all day, all night... but --- lets take a hike, and pick up litter a little, as we make our way.
Ken Pepiton
Written by
Ken Pepiton  73/M/Pine Valley CA
(73/M/Pine Valley CA)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems