Tale Bone

sat still, rocking chair,
the clock un-phased
by chirrups.

neck roll
too many days gripped

to slide easy, bones
the best of my 

rain gutter
the minutes in

the mercy seat,
the God head,
the foot cramp.

monk make note to monkey;
muck out whatever stalls
the makeover.

list to the side,
listen to the roaring chorus,

passing for quiet.
Will SchmitComment