Like kissing yourself after fingering a thorn,
no need to preach to the choir.
Lessons learned and forgotten
can be learned again.
Like new eyeglasses held up to the flames,
scorched timbers can be used
to build reminders, to frame
a way out of the race.
Confronting a great red wall of oozing eyes,
stop and smell the rose-kissed dawn
before silver shards shiver down
a single shot echo.
Watch your marks, see checkered flags flutter
as the new ones hurry past
and a single drop of dew
makes the petal tremble.