July has arrived with heated
winds and cheery...
Mirrors shy away when I look at me
I think in me one could never...
Accreditation is not desired nor sought,
Creative images fade in whisps of memory...
Wind howling outside
I pull my bedclothes closer...
I wrote poems with
letters that do not exist...
persuading needles
from a dwindling haystack...
Disappointment can be lethal
and I overdosed this time...
My weekends are somewhat overly aquired of late.
My time is in demand but without demand also...
There are ends to the distances
There are ends to all the roads...
Floating objects on
a calm sea riding on crests...
Even my blankest
pages speak...
Neurological
Enzymes...