Jigcame, Jigsaw, Jigconquered

A puzzle piece died under there
That old armchair
Covering dust
Rabbits and crust

Crumbs from some pumpernickel bread
I checked; it’s dead
But lacking loam
A burial home

A puzzle with one empty spot
The perfect plot
Gave it a spin
Still don’t fit in.


Rocky Road

A pebble in a gravel path,
In simple math
Round down to none,
But still I’m one

“Alright, which one of you samurais chopped the moon?”

The lines go by with varied speed,
The skylines treed
Then bare again
Like winter kin.


Photo by Claire Anthony

I watch as unknown legs stroll by
I don’t know why
Or where they go
Or fast or slow.

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Because Russ L asked

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