Already the sun slips,
at a sneaking speed.
The despot rising
declares a natural
state of emergency.
The pompous papa
prays on the instant
for a sum of leniency.
Alas, mere poet, see?
The sun protracts
your high-pitched misery.
Tonight a summer
full moon calls
a ball of lunacy.
The sun dictates the noon,
casts down dress codes
on the darling horology.
The moon denudes the day.
The night goes without
a blanket of authority.
Whiteout on the Whiteboard in Winter
The shadowless man in the center of winter
drew nine snowmen leaving no shadow
on the boardroom wall size whiteboard
and sketched one goal as cold as snow
nine snowmen into one who would wander.
The snowmen started to wonder
who in the whiteboard world would wonder
such opportunity in win win winter.
The shadowless man began to wander
here on the whiteboard without shadow
as quiet as a field of snow
empty save the snowmen on the whiteboard.
Whiteout conditions on the whiteboard
showed a winterland of snowy wonder
how in the wonderland of snow
in a whirling passage of winter
with zero shadow
one will wield wander.
The shadowless man wandered
solo across the clear whiteboard
concealing all shadow
not even a digress to address the wonder
soulful worship of winter
leaving no metric in the snow.
Around and around in the field of snow
the shadowless man wandered
silent on the stage of winter
in a whiteout on a whiteboard
with no edges no wonder
across the field fell no shadow.
Lost with no mere mirror shadow
the shadowless man fell in the snow
wandering he fell wondering
why worry about wandering
in fields of whiteboards
in the silence of winter
no shadow with which to wander
in the snow of the whiteboard
wondering where the nine 8’s went in winter.