I have no inspiration
so I walk down my street

but being suburbia, I
have no inspiration so
I drive to the end of town
where I can be alone except
for the occasional car
driving by,
and the occasional bird that
flies by
and perhaps the rabbit that
skips through the dry grass
waiting for spring to awaken it.

I sit next to a barbed wire fence
on a little rock
crouching, slightly uncomfortable, taking
in the moment.
Still no inspiration.

Slowly the dusty afternoon gives way
to a dusty sunset and
night eventually takes the land in its
purples and reds
and blues. And
I sit there,

shivering in the cold Colorado evening
and think.

Still no inspiration.