Shamans and debutantes await the procession.

Red macrame and torn eiderdown

Fleet, infusive where silver was lacking.

Who will float away inside this parade?
I tell the cellists to bolster their bridges,

Somewhere the chorus are warming their throats,

We wait in the crowd as the fables are rising,
barefoot to feel just where the fairytales end.

Take breath, take song, take foxtrot and clover,

But beware the rhythm that belies your  step.

(c) Accidental Tentacles 2016

3 thoughts on “Parade

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s