Fragments of Memory
This wasthe running tumble,the fisher’s dive,the sound of gravityin limbo.
Perhaps it came as no surpriseNovember was made for street lamps;
It’s hard to get out of my own wayTripped up by remnants ofunaccomplished goals andmisplaced to-do…
From brain to pen, pen to brain
My existence will not be the…
Looking beyond what was visible,a man sat down and tried to scribblesome cloudy thoughts and misty memoriesthat he thought would become his…
Your mind driftsin a peculiar twirl