High Noon 

Following a shadow

Stepping on myself

Half hoping to see a halfling

in Bilbo, or Frodo and the elves

Perhaps the queer Brown Wizard

Behind a swift hare sled

Am I in any danger

Just alone here in my head

Should I fear? I think not.

I’ve passed here in this flight path

of butterflies and bees

Checked and cleared the watch tower

Combed and brushed by branches

waving in the breeze

So why look for trouble where none of that exists

Even stinging nettle bend a knee

To rest

From judgement hold their breathe

As famished furious deer flies yield right of way

Come near again as if to say

“We want a little drink”

but not of this spring water

Nay. If it’s not blood it’s water down the drain

As I command the elements.

So I’m not alone and think them not so bad

but as for other snakelike people…they demand more

in pounds of flesh

And in their blessing

attempt to grind me down

I do my best to realize there’s really no controlling

what these insects do for free

And I’m as free as they are

when with dry wings I fly to positivity

In choosing what is best for me

I’m free to climb as high as I can think

and on white wings and water spray

I’ll close my eyes to butterflies and feel them

tickling like wind and sunshine

Climbing on at high noon.

High Noon

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