poetry by j matthew waters


we heard about the impending frost
and so we waited
paralyzed in our own tracks as they say
suddenly afraid to venture away from shelter
wondering what on earth needs watering

the impending doom is measured
by fluctuations in the free trade markets
gurus foolishly focused on their crystal balls
today all wine and roses
tomorrow’s clouds looking like flying monkeys

impending death & taxes matters not
we all know life goes on in one shape or form
& despite interruptions
the fog of uncertainty will one day be lifted
some of us fortunate enough to retell the tale

may two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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3 thoughts on “folklore

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