Spyder's Poetry Empire - Forum

tattered tin pinwheels
spin madly
in this maelstrom

on thin plastic stems,
bowing down
in condescension.

Their rain spattered petals
create an eccentric valence,
which carries me away -

into fields of ions, shooting,
chaotically distracted
by solar winds.

Winds that break me apart
into a swirling cloud of
ephemeral reveries-

a technicolor swarm
of intermingling gnat-nodes,
frenetically going nowhere.

Somewhere beneath this experience
is a place
where I should be,

and the future edges by me there
with a muttered apology
as I dream.

MB