just wandering now, once again,
staying out of the way
of the rest of the world,
with their busy lives,
their new boyfriends,
their money troubles,
and their many things to do

just me and my pen, once again,
watching the sun and the moon
keep time, picking up a rhyme
or two -- they used to be
mostly for her -- so many of her,
over time, out-of-line,
in my mind, all realigned:
marching across the floor,
wearing their little crowns,
headed for the door,
they're not keen on frowns,
so they'd all rather let me be;
sooner or later:

January 15, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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