He stood inside the circle of light, hat in hand, a glorious fedora.
She stumbled in the dark, caught her heel on a paving stone, stifled a giggle.
Crickets and frogs and hoot owls witnessed their coming together.
He dropped his hat, she kicked off her shoes, their lips met unerringly.
“This feels like a movie,” she whispered.
“You feel like a tree,” he sighed.
“CUT!” Called the director. “For the hundredth time, its dream. ‘You feel like a dream!’ Sheesh, it’s gonna be a long night.”
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
My streams of thought meet here
Conceptual Photographer and Writer
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Besteesydian
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Life in a flash - a bi-weekly storytelling blog
MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
Hahahahaha, etc!
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This made me laugh 😆
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Good! When I started the poem I intended to write a sweet romantic vignette. But the muse of mischief took over!
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Hehe
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Glad it made you laugh!
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