make it count

traditionally
everyone gets something
for Xmas and
all my somethings
for everyone
have been collected
to one place
under the haze of my trees
like someone speaking
with a burning bush
so what, I might wear gloves
when I write but it
keeps the fingers from going numb
no one sees me here
out behind the house
pouring my mind into
my books day after day
twenty-one days
straight to the top
of everyday
working out is a part
of my job in general
make it count
or else what’s the pointing
spending the afternoon
with smokey on the porch
out behind where
no one can see
it’s no wonder
we are always alone
and by we
I mean my thoughts & I…