A Crests Net Poem by Keith Michael

here in the now the shrew dances with the shoe maker, the bright moon casts their shadows on the cobblestone sidewalk of a not so modern London evening, the two worlds collide and an endless sigh is heard across the globe. let the pages turn into paper cuts, were so drawn in. home news, a courier for the morning sun racing to my front yard. use the note cards to watch me and remember what i tell you. we belong to the earth, and together, for you