WEIRDLE
284

Alone at Home

Author: The NarratorNikolai S.

You call me on your CORAL PHONE Fingers grip a SHOCK of STONE You tell me that you want to roam I tell you that I want a home

In this WORLD we are alone Atop my STOVE there is a scone Got my brew, I'll sip the foam You even took my garden gnome

Author's Note

On the ground I dropped my comb / Lost in lots of styrofoam / Hair a mess, my face not shown / My day today's a bit unknown / ⊡ / Boots drop heavy in the loam / Rosy sunset turns to gloam / Crickets like a metronome / I never got my honeycomb / ⊡ / Pulsing beats turn to drone / Wind is chilly to the bone / Beyond that place there is a zone / With a whiff of sweet dijon