it’s morning and I’m pleading
with the bright sun
I’m breathing lightly
stepping lightly
tormented
tossing
thinking
I’ll never get back
on the way to work
pinkish sky in my peripheral
memories at the forefront
still and sorry
remembering seems to steal today
minutes pass
dormant
a crust of white snow
I must decide
to make something
new
No comments:
Post a Comment