where art collides

Well,
We listened with amusement.
We enjoyed the later banter.
The elder male grandchild was on.
He held the crowd.
He shouted clear.
The description was crisp and the cola was tasty (so we hear).
Then we heard the sirens.

This entry was posted on Monday, April 6th, 2009 at 9:54 pm and is filed under poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.