Water, wind and star wondering the wiles away to find out how you are. A moment’s breath and a second’s thought a mind fraught with candor and pursuance of poppy cock. Too soon for daylight, way too early for a thousand chances. A card full of dances that never left the stall, a hairdo and lessons that never made it to the ball. Glass slippers and wo be gones and feet beyond the shoe. Most broken things will never see repair of suture, tape and glue.

Frosty recovery no invitation to debut. A late night repost, a second hand and a risque how do you do? Too late to catch the party too early for the boat standing at Marina Gate too far from here to float. August in whistle dome September on the moon, October at the freezing fair a Winter come too soon. A bag full of my fancies a mind so clogged with thoughts. These days of sleepless wishes of memories intertwined with unrefined forget me newts.

Sagging satchel pulling heavy on the donkey’s neck. This version so specific the variances are nearly a shade darker. How close proximity to the actual? How frequent the dimensions catalogued in prophetic declaration? How wishful the bliss of petitions before the King? Evoking temperance and primal jocularity to be shared in self regard for happenstance. Wealth of knowledge is not the same as big data but the stirring caldron of variables.

We sail where winds have forgotten responsibility. A place of light and dark refusing to participate in calculated assaults upon the other’s person. Water never wet, sand quenched in silicate sustenance, Earth that will not suffer seed. Twice reckoned, reassembled as puzzle seeking riddle posed in silent contemplation without the voice to offer answer. The dreams of men who never lived and fairies without charm caught up in dance outside of rhythm.