Waiting for waking
Calmly Daniel waited for the man in slumberland:
"Little Nemo," he chuckled as he imagined Harold
On the barstool in footed sleeper pajamas. Numbers and
Text glowed on a few cell phones near a Marigold
Heap in a vase at a nearby table. He thought about
Some poem he'd read once with a red wheelbarrow in it.
Often the strangest thoughts popped out
From his head like free-range chickens cooped for too long. When it
Hit him: the reason Athena was born the way she was
Every act of creation had an image or label from whence
Amen took its lead. Finding the form to fill the spiritus:
Very tricky business, that. "Pour you a stout? Pencil
Eraser your buddy?" Broke in the barkeep's voice.
"No. It belongs to my employer. Daniel answered. "Oy. Yes.
Sorry. Forgot i was still holding it." "Shazama!" said Harold emerging from sleep's chasm.
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