I let gratitude crumble into
My hard bed today.
Just my breathe is enough, thank you!
The heat outside has churned the
molecules of time I have lived yet
Into a pile of obscurity.
A pale column of steam, I am.
The birds outside are chattering housework and tomorrow,
The sun burns a hole in my escape plan
And dreams. Ones forever without an origin,
destination or route.
Wayward and wanton like a rogue elephant.
Just when we thought our legs and words
Have found their respite,
Here’s arriving a thousand restless tiny clouds,
And to all the climes living in our house upstairs,
that can claim nothing anymore, but a few well spent seconds, while here at home.