Over the Edge & On The Fence

Over the Edge I think it is over the edge.

What do you, …….. think?

I’m full of memories and anticipations.

So on the fence then ? 

Could be. Why ?

You had to ask ?

Well, there was that old pot, pretty rusty – don’t you think ?

Thinking overgrown.

Like a rapid twist of green in harsh light waiting to catch the breeze.

Could be.

That’s existence then, ………. It could be. 

Really, really. All you have is could be ?

Well there was that old rusted block and then I saw the butterfly.

It was over there, a fluttering colour kissing the air.

Just let it be.

I think it is over the edge.

Or on the fence, nestling in the white fragrance of the afternoon.

Or just a faint shadow settling for a brief moment of existence.

Could be.

 

 

On the Fence 1

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