Man and God
Bluebells chime,
Echoing
the clock.
As
people flutter past
In the
distance
There
is nothing,
But a
shadow
Calling
out for human interaction.
It
roams like a puma,
Hunting
for edible victims,
Only
not so brutally brash.
Admiration
is all it wants,
All it
needs
To
keep functioning.
A
middle aged man in strawberry green,
Clutching
handfuls of silken white balloons,
Waits,
cross legged,
Sitting,
waiting before it.
As if
it was his God.
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