if my mind was in a creative mode
i’d write a poem about a thing
perhaps of leaves of red and gold
(though we don’t have so much red)
or winter sunsets that fade to black
so quickly that the stars are caught off guard
but on this night I’m not so sharp
as to write of things so profound
it’s easier to write about monkeys
except there’s none around

One thought on “monkeys

  1. I don’t know. That poem sounds a little like “monkey mind” to me, harry.

    Of course, I haven’t written ANY poems for quite awhile, so perhaps I shouldn’t speak too loudly.

Comments are closed.