The harvest fits in the growing season and the oak fits inside the acorn. My sober mind fits right in my sober time. The soul of everything rubs across the hind leg of a cricket to sing. The infinite machinery of the universe spins but you stand there questioning the existence of a Higher Power. Well, that’s who you are, but I have only one question for you. Who else could have made all the best tomatoes come from Jersey?
Catch rain on your face.
Barnum, Bailey & Me
When I wake to find a whip and a chair by the side of my bed
I know I am in for a circus of a day
and the tears of this clown will not change a thing.
I ready myself for the tightrope walk
and watch out for stray elephants.
All the trained poodles in the world
can’t make this into a day in the park.
Painted ponies prance through their paces;
I try to stick to my own act,
meanwhile remembering that no matter how difficult
these routines may be it still beats a seat in the stands.