Wanna be the shadow in your mind.
Fading away, leaving no trace behind.
Wanna be the tear you never shed.
The thought you bury, the words unsaid.
Wanna be a question with no end,
A truth unspoken, a time unspend.
Wanna be so far, yet so near.
The erased whisper you'll never hear.

I woke up with
A sore back, and
stepped in cat
***** when my
feet hit the floor.
I turned on the
radio, and My Favorite
Things was playing,
the John Coltrane
version.
It reminds me of
rainy July nights.

I make some coffee,
And check the book sales.
Hey, I got a couple in
India, and the coffee tastes
right.

I take it as it comes.
Black and true, like
Steinbeck's bones.
Don’t forget about the
goings of mice and men.

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