A Fool or a Visionary

What?

At brunch this morning a nine year old girl told her mother, "You better get ready mom I am going to be wild."

Here I am, foolish and wide-eyed

Here is a poem for these times:

Love Letters

Some love letters are just like ballots

Cast in secret in guarded booths

By voters who wind up sleeping in someone else's bed.

I for one would feel much better

If you would just keep your perfumed letters

And vote for me with your pretty feet, instead.

Greg Cairns