vern eaker

(summer of 57 / Illinois U.S.A.)

If allowed to wander


If allowed to wander
My mind becomes
Quite a wonder

Travels far
Travels fast
There is no last

It is organized chaos
Un tethered worlds
Treasure found and lost

Thoughts skew thoughts
Now thinking shish-kabobs
Now thinking Jobs

Leaping visions I see
Unimportant urgency
Rushing patiently to me

It occurs for me to see
This poem has no end
My mind being penned

Submitted: Thursday, February 19, 2009
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