Dazy Days

Little rain, to scatter on the window,

When I am dazed in vain.

An eerie glow from the river that wraps around my home

Crawls like a school of snakes,

I feel Indigo.

Is it coming, staying,

Or just passing,


I slip on my raincoat,

And burst out the door.

Worst so far,

A boot sopped of puddle.

Close by, the river is a melted pathway of gold.

In the center, a stone black monolith juxtaposed,

Veiled in narrow weeds and perturbed snails,

The tippy top enshrouded in discolored mold.

I cannot recall the reality of this. I must be dreaming.

I let my legs dangle over the river’s bank.

Rainbow trout flail above the surface,

And flop into the gunk from which they came.

I yank at my boot and dump out the puddle.

The river’s glow becomes dark.

The rain starts to downpour.

Thunder growls like unceasing hunger.

Lightning zips through the evergreens and ignites a fiery disaster.

My hazelnut eyes glaze over. Take me away.

A string of electricity reaches the stone,

And spirals around,

The weeds and snails let go.

The rock grunts, but then chortles,

Like a velvet shock.

Then slinks back to the depths below.

The boot in my hand accidently lost.

The fire calms, it never burned.

And I go back inside to sip on peppermint hot chocolate with mini marshmallows.

And the glow subsides.


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