I notice him perched on my windshield
as I drive the boys home from school:
His legs like violin bows folded,
black drupelet eyes alert, antennae erect.
Perfect posture, perfect tranquility.
“I personally adore almost anything fantasy or science fiction, and have a hard time sticking with a book that has no magic unless it’s an alternate world or universe. I think stories with a romantic plot, and even sub-plot, are drastically overdone and cliché, and eagerly search for books that focus less on the fictional idealised notions of love.”
There is this passage, this song of creation that even babies utter praise and worship the King. Why not a fish who coughs up a coin?...why not horses…?
She knows her name
but refuses to come.
She flicks tail
and brushes legs.
She knows her worth
she knows her value.
She’s mean and cranky
yet she’s loved...