Open to new participants - Primal Poetry - not available in my submission.

1. Monkey brain:

Beats of the ground
I heard a word
rebound rebound
and it was rain
on a tin can clatter

I could see it, rain, patter
drop,drop drum drum
no cave or hollow
was found or sung,
just an old shed
with me deck chaired
and watching the
performance chatter

you are the accumulated shed stuff
that falls under trees
when I hear the beat
I think of this
and all of the subterranean matter

2.The deeper

I visit my old Aunt's house
long gone, my Aunts house,
I climb through a web of rooms
to the attic
wherein, all becomes glass
and a small bridge at the top of
the old house
takes me across
to a strange and small room,
there a door in the wall,
opened easily
crawled through,
and emerged
on the lawn.