Brindle and Butterscotch

Like a warped signal, a fading blue light,

a knife fight you never got to finish, a

breed of dog no one has seen; I collapse

like a lung, stripped of my paint, sat too

long in the sun, a list of comparisons, a

tragedy on a manuscript, ripped from the

mind of a great writer, doused in wine

and high on song; the walk I was on was

stolid yet beautiful, the leaves gently

left home to the ground, like me and my

ever growing list, and without notice, a

beauty busted me out of slumber, a man

and a dog stood fatly in an alley, and I

chuckled as his hound took aim, my

companion and I continued our journey,

I laughed and suggested we work as one;

minds apart like a stranger traveling, a

turkey dinner in June, a star crossed love

asleep on the couch, madness in a jar,

and no one got the memo; we are enemies.

even though we all live and die the same,

our lives are solitary, a unit of measurement

you never quite grasped, a line in a book

that took you aback, and as my list dwindles,

my life does too; I will always remember

when I tried my hardest, even if a guarded

pathway stood in my sight; the fishing

pole tugs with the slightest tickle, and I want

to be ready to catch the fish, even if my

pockets are empty and my pipe sits still;

life is full of color and music – sit and listen.


Click here if you are interested in reading my chapbooks on Amazon.

~ by Shawn M. Young on October 18, 2016.

8 Responses to “Brindle and Butterscotch”

  1. I love this one. I could follow with your words and walked at the street and stand on there, observing everything at your poem in perfect clearness.

  2. Your welcome Shawn, I’m happy to read poem like this.

  3. A amazing tale told in the poetry. Thank you for sharing.

  4. Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
    Amazing poetry by a talented writer. Please read and enjoy.

  5. Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.

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