Froggacuda's Weblog

what shall I say to thee
infinite reaches of space,
unfolding as a game board of unlimited leaves
surveying the rules of elder gods
as drops fall silently strained through the fabric of my robes.
clear eyes can distill liquor from the pungent fern
as brave minstrels sing under reddening skies of smoke.
as beautiful as the apocalypse is,
foundations quake with a hummingbird’s nerves;
the hum of snapped electrical cables
the glazing of the glorious mirror-windows
wind rustles gently through
an anticipating forest
and the animals wish we leave now.