In school we were told Christopher Columbus discovered the Americas. And I bought into it. Then they thought it was someone named Leif, in a in a row boat or something . . . And now we just don’t know . . .
Someone had to get here somehow? Whether they walked on an ice bridge or built one out of tree limbs, somehow they got here . . . Whether you believe in evolution or the Bible, either way, they walked, floated, flew or trotted to get here. We just don’t know who and we never will . . .
And now my dino buddy, T-Rex, they say couldn’t have walked upright . . . So what were those little itty bitty arms for? Supporting that huge head when he was down barking like a dog . . . No, I can’t buy that . . . No way.
Oh and by the way, that chicken you had for dinner, its great, great, grand daddy may have been . . . You guessed it, my buddy, T-Rex. Now that’s what I call a drum stick.
And I suppose the world is truly flat after all?
Dreams are yours to Share
My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004
Soon to come, Sleepless Nights
Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share
Warriors and Wars
Dan Hanosh poemhunter.com
Dan’s Room 2 Write
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