The mind, blurred
Ever so slightly
By the golden remedy
Tries desperately to
Squeeze out
A thought
A tear
A tired mind aches
For freedom
A breath
My last breath
Anything in the wake of nothing,
is something
1/9/2017
I find it so funny when I stumble on things that I wrote years ago that I don’t remember. The old golden remedy is always good for lubricating the synapses of creativity.