have spent this morning,
counting and measuring
thoughts.....

they are like,
little exotic birds,
that have been caught,
in an ornithologist's net.


are there enough,
or are they in decline
do they have enough
weight,
will they fly,
if, or when,
i let them go?
or will they wander around,
in circles.
dragging, a broken wing
behind them...
will they sing, a cheery heart-warming song,
or will they, croak and caw and cackle.

or will they,
fall lifeless from the net
and lie, dead on the ground.
to frail, to cope with having,
been caught, counted and measured.