Six legs in all
But nothing’s afoot.
Four stand tall,
And two are moot.
Should I get up and walk around?
Or will I fall, flat on the ground?
My back still hurts,
But I’m bored being supine.
Maybe I’ll move a little.
That should be fine.
Or maybe not, a thought a-triggers.
Just wait a while for someone, it figures.
The hours pass
And yet no word, no talk.
I wouldn’t have been so bored
If I’d taken that walk.
I did it again I dully muse.
Made laze, not pain, my excuse.
So six legs in all,
Two are afoot.
Four stand tall,
Made of wood.
I love the mood in this. Its got a very brit rhythm to it.
ReplyDelete