Stars

Bubbles floating up through space
Swirls and swirls that decorate the sky
Attempt to lead me in circles.
Lines appear before my feet
I have a row to follow
If I only wanted to go forward.
But floating in the starry night,
In patterns leading round and round,
Sounds better to me now.

A zag of lightning appears
To break my path
Sight becomes a six sense through my other four
Am I lacking only one?
What about heart?
Heat lightning strikes the summer cornfield dead.
I wither when faced with parallel paths
My lines crisscross and tangle

And now I’m stranded in the moonlight
At a crossroads
Deciding when to walk and when to talk
When to hear and when to fear
Shadows crash like waves upon my skin
Sweat pours down my spine
Pooling at the waistline of my shorts
I look up and sense a network of roads
Leading to a metropolis of big ideas
Outside of this small town
Hitchhikers might arrive by morning
But a thumbs up is more than I can do...
and less.
Basically, I want the spiciness of colors over outlined shapes;
a tale from Marco Polo’s imagination over a one-dimensional world.