Reverse, reverse, reverse, people.
Move in a wild que and put feathers in your hats.
So you can pick up coins off the cellar floor.
Swept up by magic brooms.
Long ago the script was thrown into the fire,
only ashes remain.
Illegible as if scrawled with ancient words.
Forward, forward, forward, children.
Run in an crooked file and place sequins on your cheeks.
Remove gems from rusted mounts,
set by fairies with silver wings.
Who cast spells while you sleep
Tiny, little shoes
Dance around the attic eves
Broken, frayed, twisted
Red Wolf Journal Spring 2014, and a fresh start
2 years ago