2014 #290

Gull said, “Too bad Nature fixed you here.”
“Why is it too bad?” Peninsula
replied, causing a buried broken
tombstone to shift in the dirt
from the young frown’s demand
for immediate reformation.
“Well you know I can just lift
from your surface and float

far above and fly away, disappear
into the sunshine, flirt with birds
in exotic lands. Sample a few. Spread
wild tales around this planet.
You on the other hand, well you never go
anywhere and you never will.”
“True. Then again seeds from my cellar,
well let’s just say they get around.”

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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