Persiflage
And teasing:
Rippling
Black leaves,
Tumbling
In feather grass,
Rolling
In waves toward the horizon.
Who has seen it
Or knows where it begins?
Enigmatic
As our origins
And did you know—
They found breadcrumbs
In the ashes of a fourteen thousand year old fire
Long before agriculture…
How can this be?
It hurts the brain
To contemplate such mysteries.
Footprints in time,
Both dinosaurs and men
Out of place, for certain,
And beyond our ken.
But as we go on exploring
Through space and time
We’ll find other oddities
To stymie the mind;
Perhaps a tear’s circle
On a distant world
Will make us suspect
We’ve been there before.
A mote to trouble
The mind's eye.
Nothing to be
Overly concerned—
We didn't journey,
But simply returned.
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