Good Morning

Good Morning

Good Morning

 

 

Soft pillows on a breeze

Roll across the blue drape,

curtain of beyond

 

We are clung hard by gravity

To the still surface of our world

Imagining. Always a little short

 

The obvious is always staring

Large and blunt

At my inadequacy

 

Implacable odds

The bookmaker smug in money

And I in self-pity. In fear

 

For sadness is lost time

I cannot inhabit that

Not all day. Not every day

 

So I would rather

Blush beneath my host

And live well in the weather.

After Mother’s Day

 

 

After Mother's Day

After Mother’s Day

In the quiet familiar room

Fat, wet jewels sit on the glass above

Through which I see a grey monotony

 

This augurs ill for progress

Shining reluctant light

On half-formed plans

 

Still. The silence is a pool of beauty

Limpid. Greens dominate the view

Horizon yawn. Suck me in

 

There is so much to do

To overcome the apathy

To out-pace inertia

 

Dispel the dank encouragement

Of dismal

And light the fuse