BEVERLY M. COLLINS
Silly as a duel with moonlight,
I leaned in and pulled away.
Broke my own heart in the process.
My efforts have proven as futile
as selling sugar to candy.
Like a small cube of ice that pleads
its case to a volcano.
What is real, can burn with no chaser
Make one feel vast, tiny and
naked on a highway that is the road
to a solid story filling in.
We can give breath to procrastination
or to stillness that brings new light
to the emotionally-blind.
The clown under a spot light
without makeup or coping antics.