The taste is different today
Colors a different taint
When I crawled out of bed on the wrong side
I didn’t know how much I’d miss you
Struggling with an idea
Trying to put down words
Sometimes you have to walk away
But there’s a line I like so I must stay
There’s a shadow of an idea
Lurking about
So with bated breath and furtive glances
I reach and grasp a tendril from the ether
did you find it –
that line?
or did it get away?
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I put it right in there, in that tendril poem, buried, barely making sense, but making me happy.
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nice
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thanks!
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