A swarm of thought through the mind,
a tidal wave leaving the sea behind.
A sense of stealth being used,
Or a dance, a rumba on the rapids of a mind confused.
Whom could the sneaky Samurai be?
Slicing, loggers leaping deftly
out of the way
of her katana.
Watch now, those who are unaware, eating their banana.
Of the detonator, ready to trigger,
your nemesis, a figure,
a rush of thoughtful feeling not off left, behind.
But then the vortex, spinning you out.
Err.. Who was that I saw?
Surely not, it cannot be.
Loggers leaping away at thoughts
that deprive good honest sleep, eyes that keep
returning. Never learning, how to, forget.
A dragonfly flits overhead. Yep that's it.