You Only Write Once Scholarship Slam 2013
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Mine eyes have seen the coming
the comming of many things,
But as things pass by my eyes
they become many goings.
My feet know many back allies
that have kept me off my trail.
Her fingers are feathers,
Lithe and delicate
As they hover over the brushstrokes of Monet,
Drawn to pigment like a moth to the flame.
His eyes are the ravenous mouths of predators
The home of a traveler
Is not really a home,
But more of a way of life.
The home can be furnished nicely
With a chipper mood and a broad smile.
The furniture is all in place
