if those were misty mountains i see
clouds bulking up to rain on its trees
the skimpy Han readying for its plum rains
the fragrance of its flowers wafting into Taichung
and not the waxy cataract coating tropical hills
the industrial pilfering of its waters coming down
absorbing pesticides and bonfires in its liquidity…
either way
sit i would on this bench in wonder
if these were the sneezes of a late night frolic
itchy eyes from squinting out tears of love
fatigue from a well-paid job completed
sore feet from hiking through meadows
and not an allergic reaction to dust mites
while slaving for someone else’s profit
getting lost in the dark doubling back...
either way
walk i would on any grounds
if this were the prose for discerning readership
corrected of sloppy typographical errors
demonstrating chutzpah of independent thoughts
styled by a writer voiced in literary arts
and not the quirky indulgences tripping readers up
by distractions of complex sentence starters
a paucity of followers, no potential for profit...
either way
paint i would with words from my muses
March 26, 2018
www.readingsandridings.jimdo.comCopyright © 2018 by David Barry Temple. All rights reserved.
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