brick brickwall brickwork cement

It’s solid; something to lean against, 

a respite from the mechanical whoosh across my back.

It turns the corner; real, meaning, justice, away from the parade, something like,


It’s not in the reasoning part on the spongy surface, or further down to the calcified intellect, or even deeper to the wet-walled soul, but further.

It doesn’t look at me like, why. 

Like I don’t know, how could I.

It shows up.

It clarifies and clarifies:

You can always change your frame of mind.


“We stopped looking for monsters under our bed when we realized that they were inside us.” —Charles Darwin


Copyright © Kelly Huntson and [2015-2019].


A little levity~