Saturday, September 26, 2015

The Tin Rabbit

I want to grab the little hands and run.
Through storm clouds breaking open and soaking our clothes
with big wet leaves slapping us in the face 
while kicking up slippery mud.

During the last few moments of summer there is no control.

Now I wake up with a headache.
Grinding my teeth maybe?
Too many oysters?
It's a dull throb in the temples and the Mookie is chewing on my arm.
I get up and make coffee because everyone else is still asleep and I might as well
straighten some things out.
It's still dark and that is good.
Hopefully it will by me some time.

There are so many things to be thankful for in this life.

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No dick heads please.