What a gift,
to be alive,
to feel alive.

I had several reasons for writing that specific poetry, but you were not one of them, despite my best efforts.

Since birth crying shows you are alive
And a weapon to have your way.
22/3/2022

I imagine the man across the alley judges me
but I don’t know
I think she likes me
but I don’t know.

I feel sad about the thoughts of him and her
that I don’t even know
my imagination captures me in an I-loop.

Then I read Edmund’s poem
                      he takes me on a spiritual adventure
                                    into peace, love, life, nowhere, somewhere,
                                              dancing in the rain

I think about dancing in the pain
               and here I am still waltzing
                            dripping and glistening.

Poetry invites imagination.