W I P

I don’t know. Maybe. inch inch inch.

Giant footfalls nearby. Gravity shifts. Miles lost.

Pitiful efforts achieve pain in hand.

Keep one in hand. Small measure.

(Better than two in the grave?)

Then more dreams of going, 

Dubious of venturing from the cool under this one leaf…

morning announcements

There was a peaceful moment
just a little agony over facing the inevitable struggle with eggs or cereal
I even pulled up the shade on the back window for a rare look
and the bare fingers of the spindly trees posed against a long lit cloud for a two-tone fashion
subtle greys bottom and brashly contrasting summery top.
Then, there was a scratching at the back door
Did the porch cardinal suddenly decide to present demands?
No, scratching to the left and right there are never so many birds (would that, as we were just)
No. It was the wind again.
The director called strike this set
the cat started yowling again
or the cat was the director, I confuse
That cloud was rolled out stage left tout suite
Hold onto your hats