Categories
Contemporary Life Reflections Uncategorized

In step

Time
it is said tritely
marches on

its cadence
precise as any
honor guard’s

mostly.

At times time is
less a rhythmic beat
more the tuning
of a cheap guitar

MY
my my dog
dog
has – HAS
fleas.
Fleas.
fleeeeas.

my.dog. has. fleas.

Time occasionally
stumbles,
marches on,
always finishes
the parade.

By poetluckerate

I am a poet, writer, and teacher who moved from Minnesota to New Orleans in 2008 then returned to Minnesota in 2018 - hopefully, to stay.

I lived in the most urban of settings, and the rural Midwest. These perspectives impact my writing in very unique ways.