overcast and gray sort of like the
color of confusion
my mind
doing
circles around the closed sign posted on the door
can barely
take a deep enough breath
all the
sound is muffled
circling
the square
sitting
here waiting my life away
watching as
the lonely waitress walks westward
who am I
wondering
as the color of the clouds gets lighter
here at
Angus’ Ranch
where
dreams are forgotten
the
regulars are treated just as though they are tourists
god bless
Sampson’s final lock of hair…
No comments:
Post a Comment