Rain ‘o’ Clock

^{_{Photo by Katherine Mihailova on Pexels.com}}

Truth-spilling into marginalia, my scribbling overflow.  Word gypsies.  The blank page and permission to emote.  My hands seem older than me, my little brown hands.  Fluttering to my face, my hair.  My roots.  Need enlightening.

I want to join the cult of cats if they’d let me. In the boulevard of parallel ugh-ness.  I’d probably have to be initiated.  I’d give up before they even miaowed their instructions at me and stalk away, bemused.  You can’t tell me what to do, you glaring of felines.  I’m a scarecrow in disguise and I’m not sorry.

Paint some washes of denim-blue and dive in, everything you need to know is there.  And yet.  

The rippling sea bed is alive with octopi hiding from those they thought were their sea buddies but who were secretly planning to eat them.  It really is quite dreadful.

But it’s okay. For there are always dolphins. And those dudes have got your back.

Not a smart-ass, just bookish and curious-orange. You spot patterns, you see how they’ll unfurl. You may stay.  Or take your leave, knowing what will happen.  It’s not psychic, it’s just being on this planet does that to you.

Anyway, it’s lovely to meet you, how are you?

_{^{© N Nazir 2023}}

_{^{© Diego Romeo}}

Written for Shay’s Word Garden where we are given inspiration with Randy Newman. Words used: overflow, gypsies, boulevard, scarecrow(s), sorry, smart-ass.

Written also for dVerse Poetry Prompt, hosted by Grace, who challenges us to write a poem using word play, specifically the literary devices of anthimeria, kennings or oxymorons.