It Was a Joke

Oh, it was a joke that afternoon. We were singing
About our tombs, the way you do, go along with whatever
Fizzes through the radio. Our tombs and who
Would come with keys. And Ann laid down,
And Beth laid down, and Carol, stumbling, after.

Wisdom croaks with keys, he sang
As we lay on the pavement
Axles passed and the ground shook
As we lay in amazement--

Oh, it was a joke that afternoon. We four, shopping.
Ravens were already calling as we were singing along.
I fell asleep on that asphalt, tarry and warming
We were still humming and the words echoed
Our names. He said the keys were coming!
Ann, Beth, Carol and I, cast fast in our sunning.

Sharing with The Sunday Muse and with Poets and Storytellers, where one can find weekly poetry goodness!

So, setting an unreasonable set of writing goals in lieu of New Year's Resolutions. :) There's a local author event coming up (in May) and I'm determined to have three additional books ready by then (one poetry book, one novella, one novel) that respond to three writing goals (one standalone poetry chapbook, actually finishing a story begun several years ago, and finally getting a book done in the fantasy world in which I've been noodling). Goals, right? 

Hope you're having a wonderful week! 

-- Chrissa