Black silk rustles softly
Neath a full Carolina moon
Dreamy thoughts sooth
A mind packed full
Of horny toads and snakes
In an insouciance manner
Lacking apathy
But full of concern
While ebbing slowly
Toward healing
Poised toward that chasm
Between yesterday and tomorrow
With a knack for patching
The leather of the soul
so that it looks whole.

Laura R
6-02-03