In My World

he had green eyes
like a cat with white fur
sunny
i followed him across a field
meadow grass, wildflowers
linen shirt, arms- castle wall strong
he saw me watching
as he
moved the ground
beneath me
and opened his mouth to speak
yellow butterflies
fell from his lips
and then they flew away

Inspired by DWC's Poem

I too am a cliche:
programmer by profession
intellectual by habit
anti-social by nature,
contrasted with a desire
to be accepted.

I am also not a cliche,
but to an unkind eye
with little patience
to gather understanding
I would certainly appear
well defined.

untitled: a study

i
realized today

that i am
the cliche

a librarian:

single
two cats
who has a

penchant for
cardigan

sweaters
(today's

blue) the brown
one

unceremoniously

balled up
& cast

on the
floor

of

my car