Poetry: A Passing Dream

Since I crapped out on doing a blog post yesterday, I thought it only fair that today should be a two-for.  Short, but sweet.

A Passing Dream

Passing a cornfield just before

The winter

Something in me wants to go

Out into that cornfield and

Sleep

Sleep till the buzzards are

Circling low overhead, luring them

Down

Just to get up screaming

And scare the shit out of those

Cowards.