13,176. WHEN THE HEART IS A RAMBLER

WHEN THE HEART IS A RAMBLER

Ah, everything is wrong, you want to say

but shrug and say instead, 'So what and

what's the difference?' Blow it all off to 

calumny and walk straight away. The 

world is a light oneness, and I've still

get a head on my shoulders.

-

Just down the road some, there's a

peacock-oyster-rooster and a guy

with two horses and four dogs. That's

a real crowd to manage, but he does

it well : a few grown kids thrown in

too. Boys, mostly, it seems.

-

I wouldn't know what to say, if asked,

but evidences remain that they're all

pretty wild. Always shooting guns

and cannon, or so it seems to the ears.

Out behind the barn, some sort of a

shooting-range exists.

-

I walk the woods, shaving dreams and

intent to listen; knowing I'm lost in

another world  -  of things I've never

seen at all. What's an oyster-rooster;

and what is the sound of its call?
When the heart is a rambler, it little
matters at all...