wake, live, repeat

December 26, 2014 § Leave a comment

let today be the day
the sun decides to shift in the sky
if nothing else
but to throw new shadows
to hide my damage

not that I care so much
how cogs progress
through their
operation, mind you
but because
things have been
a bit off
anyway

today might just
as well be the one
that goes haywire
in a cosmic sense

the way it is, you see
is that
birdsongs sound
like tubular bells to me
the wind – a theremin
I can’t recall
important events
names evade me
more than a little effort
needed to throw
that first leg off the bed

there is comfort in the sound
of familiar colors
I listen for them
as I reach for
the lamp
trying to remember
what day it is

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead

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