Don't blink (or you may miss me)

Jun 23, 2025

This is not the end of the poem, but

certainly the end of the beginning, so

don’t blink, or

you may miss, what

even a blind man,

can laugh at,

in the East, a wind

blowing west, saying:

“A nightingale talking, masks

nothing ears

can’t hear,

or your eyes can’t see.”

So, Rule me,

if you dare,

with so many words,

scarves

and hate.

I will be blue,

watching Ernie in June.