POEM: Unbridled Exuberance — the !n(tro)verted yogi

At the sight of I know not what, something — or, maybe, someone —pointed out by his grinning granny, I saw a boy run in place, overcome by enthusiasm from the waist down — like a cherubic Michael Flatley sans the coordination, but with exuberance to spare. At the sight of the boy, I couldn’t […]

via POEM: Unbridled Exuberance — the !n(tro)verted yogi

 

Hay guise TIY taught me poem lines can be longer than three words! Word! /feigned enthusiasm

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