Good afternoon my friends! Welcome back for another weekly edition of Sunday Afternoon Poetry. I hope that as the week concludes that you have much to look back on and be grateful for. Today's poem is another one similar to last week; a little off the wall but sometimes that's the way we need to express ourselves: outside of the norm. Thank you all for continuing to return and read my posts; it is truly appreciated. Enjoy your day, wherever you are and may the Universe conspire to see you find happiness.
Being Of North
As I walk along the thin red line
On the borders of my mind
The mice are meeting at the pound
To fight against the roach and bug
Who're stuck beneath a throwing rug
The geese will come to sing and play
There will be no rest today
And as for bees who've gone to swim
Or oceans boiling at the brim
A rat will come to see them all
The trees won't stand there quite so tall
For as the mountains run for cover
A cloud is searching for a lover
Lightening strikes upon the sky
Another carcass slowly dies
The birds will never fly on time
And I will slowly lose my mind
-John Thibeau 24/Feb/2002
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