Fall Morning Fawning

With heavy eyes and long heaving yawns

From rest I wrenched myself and found a seat,

About to be beside, though unbeknownst,

A most-admired, mist-enshrouded,

Otherworldly woman wearing waving white wings.

A “hi” she smiled like a sort of shy hint

That somehow she was blind to all the light

Emitted by her merely being

Missing was the air, wrestled easy out,



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J. W. Barlament

History, politics, religion, culture, and everything else bound to piss people off.