poetry

A Union

18 April 2018

Watching planets plummet into waves
washing over my feet
Jupiter tickles my little toe
I communicate with light years through a seashell
the comets are calling
gossiping stars circling
I have only good intentions to tell
they shoot their way off into the abyss
all is bliss. all is well.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *