Pumpkin, Pie, Painter: Death in a Bowl of Cereal.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Morning.

It can be treacherous.

The sleep of night still dims the eyes,

unwary to troubles that may be waiting...

silently.

Lurking,

stretching,

green.

Green?

Do I mean like envy?

No, not envy.

Just green.

Green going on in endless circles,

searching for something.

In quest, is green, for something else

that is ,

perhaps,

also green?

But green only sees white,

white,

white.

His demise may also be in white:

white liquid on a silver spoon;

and the initial onslaught:

a sleepy girl's morning breath.

does chivalry still exist?

Another green enters the room.

Not the green that was hoped for,

but green nonetheless,

and with the added advantage of a boy's heart.

Is it chivalry when bestowed upon such a tiny,

helpless,

lost creature

rescued from the endless white life or the sudden white death?

I think, perhaps,
in a breakfast-bowl-of-cereal sort of a way.

Here's hoping you'll find a smile in your day!

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