The wheel of fortunes

Pale blue skies
and I,
bushy-tailed and
bright blue-eyed,

the morning smiles
and brings much more
than yesterday,
not waiting for the milkman
slipping in like silk man
and going out,

not yet though,
my shadow still sleeps on,
lazy bastard,
does he not know
this day will soon be gone?

I wait and watch the dragonflies
an iridescent gleaming,

in a moment
what was dreaming
but the waking.

© 2020, John Smallshaw.