In the deserted island of my mind,
cotton candy memories float by,
followed by fog and bomber planes,
raining shrapnel of a painful past
and Nostradamus future.
I am tempted to retreat,
among the trees,
where no one can find me.
Give up my majestic seat
on the sandy shores of time.
Boldly I remain,
sheltered in plain sight,
like a hermit crab,...
Sunday 6th December 2020 6:57 pm