52 weeks in a year, 26 letters in the alphabet
… merely coincidence?

Time is money and money is naught and so
thought is time. I keep looking for a word
to rhyme.

She just didn’t happen upon circumstance
or the circumference of the happenstance.

Far from it.
Far be it for me to opine from afar. I’m
fairly sure that that of which I speak is uncertain.

Hold your tongue, I’ll hold mine
or yours if you prefer.

Oh,
how I’d
hold it

Right up front, before I begin, a preface to what
I’m about to say, a few opening remarks. But first …

I need to know,
how easy is it
to maintain that glow,
that wonderful charm,
that sense of the moon
while dancing

© Chagall ∞

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