Every 13 years poems dig
themselves up — molting metaphors
open mic drone
(Found this little guy, legs up, twitching on the sidewalk. I took this shot after turning him over. Hope he gets laid and dies well.)
Every 13 years poems dig
themselves up — molting metaphors
open mic drone
(Found this little guy, legs up, twitching on the sidewalk. I took this shot after turning him over. Hope he gets laid and dies well.)
Clever and left me smiling
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Ali. Glad you approve.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Melissa!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Excellent analogy! Nice of you to save the little guy. Hope he makes the most of your efforts. 😁
LikeLiked by 1 person
As do I. Thanks, Michele. Safe travels!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Bart. Home now. Jet lagged, enjoying some blog/poetry creativity and entertainment. ✨ Happy weekend!
LikeLiked by 1 person
On the subject of flies getting laid…
https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=122167844186036869&set=gm.7584376314975876&idorvanity=133013273445588&locale=en_GB
LikeLiked by 1 person
It must be Spring!
LikeLiked by 1 person
a young fly’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.’ !
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m bugged by this. ;)
LikeLiked by 2 people
Ha! Good one.
LikeLike
Pingback: Fraiku: Brood – Zack
That’s a lovely thing to wish for anyone! 😄
LikeLiked by 1 person
Agreed. They seem to be having a great time in the trees.
LikeLike
Wonderful!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, LuAnne! Hope you’re enjoying the cicadas too.
LikeLike
😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks!
LikeLike