Granite Fashions & Cellophane Strings

Rivers fall on tracks riveting
Everyday citizens lining ordinary heights
Ants see only peripherally
Little thoughts, little dreams,
Little wishes, little themes
Crumbling to chocolate liquor streams
Swimming upstream to tags unworn by modest upbringings
Jumping downstream to a different face of fantasy
Magic has a different name
A different flame, a bittersweet game

Granite fashions and cellophane strings
Frozen fingertips and broken heartstrings
Winter prys those who fall to the feet of blistering reality
Tears from an angry cloud swish in unproofed shoes
Left unprovoked and untarnished
Wash, rinse and repeat

Want inspiration? Run somewhere else
Secrets color streaks in a lonely palm tree
Three days is plenty