This can turn into anything
I’m in the yard when a yellow jacket
Tears its sleeves on the fence
And falls headfirst into a box of brandy
There’s a spider too
A common black jumping spider
That moves so fast
It’s like watching a flipbook of pictures
With only the slightest difference in each
The world is different than I thought it would be
No one remembers anything I’ve done
I love this. Those last two verses are arresting. But I particularly appreciate how the title of the poem is tapping away at me while I follow the images and arrive at your conclusion.
Thanks again dude. Wonderful to hear.
You are welcome. I am really liking your work already.
You can come back whenever you want!