I’ve not aged well since the last time.
I’ve gone grey.
Maybe it’s the way the air has become
thicker like syrup,
birds are behaving chaotically,
and I haven’t touched a fern in months.
I think my feet have become swallowed up
inside another set of feet
and my eyes have begun to recoil
from the harsh light of a new decade.
I’m a little tired.
There are moments when I remember
‘delight’… a bite, a laugh, something soft.
But the scenes fade in and out
and I’m not sure what’s real.
I hope you don’t mind the grey.