Strands of Gold

Strands of Gold

Shoot the moon with strands of gold

at random intervals on your way home

Light the sky with golden threads

and mumble words inside your head

and laugh

and think yourself clever

and promise yourself never again

This is the end

the end of the line

You're left with an empty spindle

The sun rises and the brightness of the golden threads dwindle

and you resolve to mingle

hoping to get lost in the crowd

I had the first two lines of this piece in my head all day and I didn't know where it would go when I started writing but I know that I had to at least get those two lines out and then see if I could write anything else to go with it... nothing as brilliant as the first two lines but oh well. Peace out.