It’s not what you think
This unplanned adventure
One of many experienced
We do not say maybe later
As later may never come
A troll adventure, one of 4
The last trek a reflection of time
Where old routes used
Recalled what once was
Was an exit for insanity
That is now A 5000 acre park
Dix Park as it is called
Housed artistic relevance
That belies its past tragedies
Tragedies of 900 souls
Buried near a flipped
Concrete marker of their passing
Buildings of caged anguish preserved
That was never on my bucket list
Where we roam with others
To see art preserved
As a family of Trolls
depicted in forest settings
Parents and three children
We see Art of unique wooden caricatures
We see Art of owlish metal colored balls
We see Art of feathered aluminum circles
All while visiting a village
Where damaged souls
Were hidden from sight
Much like trolls of legend
Whose ugliness blended
In forest beauty
We celebrated a completed mission
With artistic craft beer
Artistic pizza arugula topped
Aldi mission of Easter surprise
Presented with improvised
Containers of treats
To giggling girls
Demanding a new charade event
An enthusiastic white troll
Of a Pekingese humping control
Instead of bite marks
The trip home was a silent reverie
Briefly holding hands
Reflecting our adventures
We part ways, my person and I
I awake as birds sing
Light windows a new day
Spiritual connection awaits
Where we celebrate life
On this morning after
Poetry by Kee Zealy
Written on 2026-04-05 at 13:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
The Morning After…
The morning afterThis unplanned adventure
One of many experienced
We do not say maybe later
As later may never come
A troll adventure, one of 4
The last trek a reflection of time
Where old routes used
Recalled what once was
Was an exit for insanity
That is now A 5000 acre park
Dix Park as it is called
Housed artistic relevance
That belies its past tragedies
Tragedies of 900 souls
Buried near a flipped
Concrete marker of their passing
Buildings of caged anguish preserved
That was never on my bucket list
Where we roam with others
To see art preserved
As a family of Trolls
depicted in forest settings
Parents and three children
We see Art of unique wooden caricatures
We see Art of owlish metal colored balls
We see Art of feathered aluminum circles
All while visiting a village
Where damaged souls
Were hidden from sight
Much like trolls of legend
Whose ugliness blended
In forest beauty
We celebrated a completed mission
With artistic craft beer
Artistic pizza arugula topped
Aldi mission of Easter surprise
Presented with improvised
Containers of treats
To giggling girls
Demanding a new charade event
An enthusiastic white troll
Of a Pekingese humping control
Instead of bite marks
The trip home was a silent reverie
Briefly holding hands
Reflecting our adventures
We part ways, my person and I
I awake as birds sing
Light windows a new day
Spiritual connection awaits
Where we celebrate life
On this morning after
Poetry by Kee Zealy
Written on 2026-04-05 at 13:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
