
Dear Reader. This is my Mea Culpa. I admit that my creative juices dried up back in August. I’ve been wandering in a wasteland of worry over the fate of democracy ever since. It’s finally time to let my muse run rampant again and to paint pictures with words strung together like a pearl neckless waiting to be worn.
The vanilla shake stood tall on the blue table
frozen in time like a promise of better things to come
simple in its splendor a modern-day fable
a temptation that can make anyone succumb
suddenly an earthquake rocked the room
and the vanilla shake shook
with impending doom
when it looked like the vanilla shake
would fall
and give way to the quake
that isn’t want happened at all
-30-