I'm in a small living room with beige , sheet rocked
walls and wood floors , contemporary artwork and a Vox
amplifier
A MacBook Air for keeping my diary , a ceiling fan forming
a tune with a busy wall clock
Dust is collecting on white painted baseboards , occasionally
tumbling across the floor
A front door secured twice plus two windows with venetian
blinds , trinkets on shelves , the faint odor of pine , paper flowers ,
fragments of glass glued into containers
Peripheral shadows are moving to and fro , images are stair stepping
before me , heart racing , hands cannot find their home , memory
racing mach one , telephone is nothing but noise , windows are for
guarding against potential predators , flipping in synchronized repetition from Facebook to Outlook , from Hello Poetry to Musicians Friend
Flying with one eye closed and hoping to eventually land* ...