when you’re up there standing on glass like the flat-bottomed clouds I can see your soles soft footprints on the blue and you can see how down here the ground is all aslither grass in constant oscillation, silver and beige and billiard-felt and us gawping up tiny pale faces like fish in a puddle
written for Twiglet #302. “fish in a puddle”
The last stanza is superb.
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Thanks, Bob. 😊
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… and blowing bubbles! 😂 I like this one a lot.
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😄
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Definitely like fish in a puddle.
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“billiard-felt” ! Bloody love that.
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