July 2013

A tiny pink parasol floated down from the sky

and settled with a whiff on the grass

 

A few others followed,

drifting and weaving,

to lay by her side.

 

They formed a global arch—

a sun protecting array of

lacy dandelion fluff

 

Until it rained;

Then the lady-brellas

oozed sticky cotton candy.

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The Tightrope

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Agony