30:30 2013 - 21

Candy Land

We woke knowing the color
of our destination. The frozen
sea, the hard crack woods,
the unsulfured springs left
when white was stripped
from the raw cane. I passed
you stopped dead, awaiting
signs, and I could not help, I ran,
ran fast as I could, to be first
to quit this sweet pink plane.
No good can come of a paradise
paved with rules and a purpose.