Waylon

You, wayward highwayman of mine
Go where you will
Go where you wouldn’t
I have already found you
Hidden from their eyes
Yet blazing
Screaming through the Skies

Little Light

Ought I bake a cake with this
One I whip up on the fly
A pretty thing to be consumed
Ultimately?

Do I don the corduroy
Deep thinking, feigned or actual
With elbows patched so scholarly
Egotistically!

Shall I sit alone with this
As ancient wisdom would advise
Perhaps eternally, but seek
Tranquility.

Or will I simply walk with you
In sweet-smart cameraderie
Joining hands from East to West
Intimately….