Left of Center

Angles a’jangle and elbows akimbo,
eyes and limbs askew.
A hem hanging down and a tilt-a-wheel hat,
defined all life that he knew.

Life was a cobblestone complete with a trip
On each and every third stone.
Storms with gale force winds was all he had ever known.

The wind whipped his umbrella backwards.
Rain danced familiarly on his head.
Life was left of center with elusive bits of brightness.
They sparkled in the labyrinth of his head.
—-
This bit of poetry sums up this week perfectly. It was full of unexpected things.

 

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