I
Mallard marks my
morning’s myanderings;
moorhen munches moss.
My mind’s metred.
Muse mirrors.
In the couplet-epilogue,
I let go th’alliteration.
II
The cranes cry
to the cov’ring cloud;
I’m cold, as I sit writing.
III
Semi;
-colon,
dash, ‘n Oxford Commas
take their final stand ‘n
list their grand achievements.
IV
hahuh
!nice ‘n earlee
BPAARK
?yeah. Pendswotheeofferiz
soe lighk
mmm
!yeh
pupupkikikikikikuh
kuhkuhkuhkik
…UM…
PUHRK?!
“Just a coffee shop, or like?” In incompleted query’s his reluctance.
Image credit – Z Studio
william altoft 