I finished my book on the train before arriving at my home stop, this afternoon. My brain started idling ... in rhyme.

It started with "moon, June, cocoon", and turned into this:

in a cocoon
the middle of June
feels like a womb

Packed sardine-tight
Missing the light
we must look a fright

Climb the moving stairs
to the fresh air
and the light there

The sky ( Read more... )