The wind performing
through small bones of my wind chimes --
monkey gets the joke.
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This is where my thoughts pool as a reservoir of miscellany and peculiarity. It's actually not my brain that's dripping -- it's my soul that's leaking. It's really no big deal.
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- my head
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An aside....I hate those blasted word verifications. I forget I have to do them and press enter. My comment is erased.
ReplyDeleteLet's see...what is it I way saying...
Ah yes! Another one of those word gifts..."small bones of wind chimes"
I can see them. They are ethic and antiquated. One hanging from the neck of a shaman. I've a male and female skeleton from which the wind speaks in two octaves.
Reminds me of a short I wrote and stored in my secret attic:
Hey!
Hey you!
My silence is shouting!
The dog heard
(I think)
for she scratched an ear.
That's good stuff! I like your short a lot. I picture a living room -- with dog -- where spirits of different orders and textures are not meeting.
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