WHAT ARE THE CHANCES?
What are the chances:
a needle and no thread?
That bothered my tidy mind;
I was in danger of worrying
the problem into a bigger hole.
He plucked a hair from his own head,
Here, he said. On me.
What are the chances? A needle
threaded with a single hair –
his hair – to clean me up,
restore my squeaky image.
He watched me sew
my laddered leg into
its prior state of
Nearly-Nude perfection,
then told me he preferred
the ladder, which was, he thought,
going somewhere…
He liked where it was going,
where this was going:
Somewhere. Else.
I carried his glistening pale
all afternoon; glass brightened
with each sweep of his lathered arm,
his hair smelling of Speedshine
twenty feet above where
my ladder stopped and his
began:
the middle of somewhere.
Else.
What are the chances?
Odd, to say the least.
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Odd, to say the least.
I guess that's a 50% probability, I would have taken even. Patrick
fee
You never seem to stop amazing me with our wit and intelligent poetry.
Peace, love and light,
Amber
upbeat, humorous and covert ...
Regis
I wear Nearly Nude too :)
But lately a lot of black polka dot, you ought to try black polka dots too! xx
Christine
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in America, Karen Lynn in Texas. :D
fall off the ladder. 'Course if you're inclined to
be careful, you just might be saved by, uh, a hair?
I like it when you're funny. -gene.
Chip Bergeron
Georgexx
the wit and resonance...there's cheeky possibility
here, suggestiveness and dare i say... promise.
Yes!
John