7.5.21​

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Waking up with blurry eyes

from last night driving, watching the sky.

Fire speckled, greenish gas, wait until

my mind goes not quite so fast.

At night I plan the coming days.

Who I'll meet and what they'll say.

Which connections could grow to be

sacred, unyielding, my everything.

I'm strangely content with being one.

Even as the masses move as one.

And I feel apart from that

current flow which spares no time for me.

Naturally. the motive must be mine

to piece together tattered words

I wake to. I'm wide awake when I come to.