Peace, Love and Patchouli

What goes on in there
The mind in darkness
Perhaps not doing much
Of anything at all
Upstairs where the cobwebs linger
The birds and bats
In the belfry
Moving about
Doing their thing
As such things tend to do.
You gaze outward at the glass
That stops the forward movement
Looking about wondering where
Is the escape route,
Before the rains
These panes stood open
But now battened tight against the wind
Against the escape
Of the hunter
And the hunted move about
Without a care
Just another day
Dark shadows cast no spell
Settling in to wait,
Ready in the image of calm
Still water with no ripples
Yet still moving
In the depths of the mind.

Maybe perhaps the thoughts of our serial killer cat. Stealthy and quick…waiting.

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