When the lake broke

Were you awake last night
When the lake broke
Into splinters flying apart,
Like the words between you and me?
Into spaces where we searched for remnants
Of worlds left behind.

Did you hear the sound of footsteps receding
As we walked away from ourselves?
Like tassels, they trail us now,
Flowing in a random order.

Did you see the sun
As it strolled over the horizon?
Did its red fiery eyes
Tell you it had to die,
To live another day?


The first pet

“Jeff, we should buy you a pet,” Rhea said.

“But Mama,” Jeff clutched the metal figure of a puppy. “I already have a pet.”

The pet-bot pressed its muzzle against Jeff’s arm. As it let out a shrill electronic whimper, a tear drop rolled down from its eye.

“Woofer’s the best pet in the world.”

Freewheeling feet

When feet burn with a restless thirst,
And eyes invigorated by sleepless nights
Dance with enigmatic smiles.
Boredom dusted off the shoulder,
Fades into a distant speck.
With logic and reason
Crumpled into paper balls
And tucked away into the corner of a shelf.
The leash of routine snapped
With apathetic unconcern;
The wandering soul has no relief
While insanity tugs at the sleeve
And the world struggles to catch up
Chained to its peripheral needs.

And while I walk away,
I feel like a child again.
Armed with a sack on the shoulders,
And even though the snow covers the hill,
Wrapping it in its shroud,
My feet sing a new song,
My sight undimmed, no road is too long.