Monday, December 6, 2010

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.



  1. 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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