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Shaman at the Laundromat

The exhaustive moment provides wobbly things. Blue skies were noted at certain times, with a green aura from trees of considerable standing. When it comes to detergent, any powder or thick liquid will do. The shaman grows tired with effort and embracing.

Earlier would be a shrub, proud in its distinct gravity of barrier or landscape placement. Eager as can be, with radiant sun effect causing photosynthetic response, shrub grows almost tall. Shaman can foretell rooftops, extreme clouds, and cleaning the lint filter. The shrub describes there.

Soap remains grand, with disparate smells. Socks ever test the journey. Plaid will surprise you.

Epileptic shaman rolls on Laundromat floor, howls for sky with diamonds. Like that, the sock of the moment transfigures. And we are serious

going to lengths about the middle of the road. Too many pieces of the puzzle fell to the floor. Rendered as exasperation then made into resolve, so the puzzle creates a dynamic time which becomes constancy for moments at a time.

Still, when the washer stops dramatically, the shaman’s perch always shakes. Moderate and careless drier continues to hum. Perception is in the eye of the percept, or when will likely stories remain the same?

Shaman with well-folded and springtime freshness.

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