Cryptic Diversion

To hear the whispers

of ferns as they unroll

is nothing short of a lalamity,

causing me to hum

the hymn of unrolling,

heedless if it clashes

with the rambangle monotone

of cogs busy at grinding

everything deaf

to sylvan movement

into a snarfdiffanous powder

that settles into

indifferent drifts.

Song Choice: Everything Is Everything by Earth, Wind and Fire

This poem was created from a prompt at Imaginary Gardens For Real Toads: Stuff and Nonsense. It's also linked to Poet's United, Poet's Pantry 333