The Corner

Part II or Barnett’s Blue Bike Broke Badly

Five more from seventy four, my thoughts,

I’m trying to retrieve from my account,

Some old coins covered thick in dust and fraught,

My memory rabbit hole caved, no doubt.

But enough cream rises it seems, for plots,

Or words to form in either, springs the fount,

John on monkey bars now unsafe for tots,

I raced Jack in a sprint, Coach stopwatch count.

Chip dribbles to the right and then set shot,

Barnett’s blue bike breaks, though fairly stout,

Saxophone reed in mouth and music dots,

Some things captured from the past, top of mount.

It’s late now, I hop...