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.

 

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Rocky Road

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

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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