Poem: Signs

 

Signs

  

stars not so proud,

they roll to flip bells

on the idle cap of

 

a puppet in play

strung to mythic pawns.

 

the sun-half crests

on waves which yank confused

 

to trip the tilt-a-whirl

of the darkling other;

 

so it goes, a scrabble

of spin and totter:

 

up charms down

till all trends clown

 

dizzy on the reel

of a sphere.

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