Morning Fable (Poem)

Errant fable,

Your tendencies are as torn as your sheets.

Dodging the light,

You dissaray your own seeming.

Pages are fleeting

the doctor pleads

You must find a new cover.

At your outset you knew love

You knew three colors of it

Yet you’ve settled for sand

Swimming through your clenched fingers

Making you believe

A castle will make itself

With a drawbridge of coral and peace.

You must take up hammer and nail

Perform the dance of daily grease

They tell you it sickens them, but

You are as human as

The hand that holds your text together.

Cast a line into

The light of your evening dew

I guarantee

The fish will bite all the better

For your resemblance to tree.

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