as plain as
day time next door
you can hear
the conversation
down the street
silent autumn
nights until
the dog starts
yelling about
being short again
laughter and maybe
it’s a party
or someone
celebrating
all alone
remembering the idea
over and over
again rereading
in order to move
something around
jump start
creativity when
it stumbles
over it’s own
redundancies
is there time
for another
pot of joe
not knowing anyone
by that name
like my ring
when I shower
for fear of the drain
(and when I wash
the dishes)
extended summertime
feel in the night
air as I drift in
and out of a deep
or shallow
thought depending
on the moment
and if the sun
was out all day
most likely outside
at some point
look to the stars
through the trees
in the back yard
as high as eye can see
head down
full speed ahead
like the old days
in a closed down
restaurant
resonating like the bell
returning to the
mindfulness of
each moment
as they stack up well
and they may
fall over at times
somehow
still hovering
above ground
metaphorically
driven to find
the next thought
and that
might be all
there is
to it
driven daily
and certain phrases
don’t like to repeat
everything changes
and it should
for it’s own good
and the good
of all involved
in a thought
can’t tear
away from the page
like a surge of energy
holding the pen there
exploding longer
than the usual
one page limit
as of late
nothing concluded…
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