WRITING CIRCLE
We sit about the fire,
a circle of light a dance,
aginst the dangerous dark.
Grooming the troops
removing protein flea by flea,
tick by tick.
Stories, legend and lore
spoken and heard.
What before had come,
what was yet to be,
most certainly the right now.
Now I sit in a circle of light.
Societal status no longer relies
on fleas per minute.
Stories, legend and lore
still spoken and heard.
Instead of a crackling yellow
To alight our tales,
flickering blue paints a tiny
screen upon my glasses.
Sharing with all what had
been, things yet to
be. Most certainly
right now.
WDF
really like the vision of the past contrasting the now...the fleas the ticks and the flicker of the blue light on the screen...much different much the same...bkm
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