Matchbox

Several images hover and then devolve
On walks , in a walk's thought on grass
Away from creatures, men and buildings
As  dry leaves come flying, wiggly worms
Emerge from  the earth in its first rain

In its velvety softness lay a rain-breeze
An index finger richness for feel at the tip
Soft at the core, walking as in its dream
A tiny four-footed red velvety creature
That may  laugh in new matchbox home.

The thing has to exist in furrows of rain
Amid columns of sleet ,dodging though
Giant pillars to  sky, whose stony selves
Fizzle down to  clouds as our eyes look up
A white killer hail  falls like pearl-drops
On their soft rich redness, their velvety
Bodies  may lose their backs to the pearls
Their ruby existence wiped off to dreams.
A child's matchbox is a much safer  home.

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