, , , , ,

wizard poppies

and the words were an icy rain that lashed his bare face/the book a tornado that tore him from the tame sepia landscape of his childhood/he was suddenly a kansas farmhouse/spinning wildly in the angry broken sky/tiles shaken loose, windows shuddering as if in fear of flight/scudding to a screeching halt in the faraway blue

the page opened the door into yonder in his head/and he tentatively stepped through/eyes wonder wide and heart thumping/wrenched from reality’s fields of cornstalks glinting in the harvest time/and his own grey paving stone existence/to a whole new world of possibility/boundless with challenge and opportunity