Even arthropod eyes hurtling down airborne highways cannot register strings of spectral hues one in two chances for the miniscule to slipstream between or else a weighty rage against sticky bonds and the gravitational pull of the grave but headway is not always safe passage we blunder overboard, plunge from heights without a safety net
Am with Real Toads in the Imaginary Garden today for the Flash 55 PLUS ‘Space‘
PoetryPix 
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