Poem-A-Day: Day 85

Doodle Brigade

Stork-like fingers doodle nightmare
creatures in crescent shapes
on chalkboard fantasy.

I watch in some dumbfounded mastery
of the craft I have yet to examine
in its full demonics.

It is no less evil than the stork-like fingers
that do the doodling in the first place,
but it is far more entrancing.

So with nothing left to give or gain,
the best thing I could do was get,
and forget I ever saw it.

But the stork-like fingers continue with wizardry
so frantic that it becomes a whirlwind
of flailing tips on stony meadows.

They are the meadows I have grown fond of,
dusty and yellowed with lavish words
that makes it hard to notice
the nightmares coming.