Inkpaw

so often we look up 
hoping to catch a glimpse of the shiny heavens we've been told so much about
but instead
we should look into the small things
the reflections in each and every raindrop

Delight

Is the taste of good chocolate

Melting on your tongue 

It’s that ecstatic feeling 

When you reach the pinnacle of the swings arch 

Just before gravity pulls you back down again

the insanity causing my brain to deflate
like an old bike tire that's rolled over one to many nails in the road
or a cake that never received the leavening required to make it rise in the first place