Nights are always longer
When the words
Don't seem to come
As easily as they did
The night before.

It's a nail
Under my naked foot.

It's a splinter
Through my
Fingernail.

It's that flash of death memory
Sliding down the hill behind the house
All alone
And barely catching myself
Before a split tree stump
Impaling my thigh,
Perhaps changing my life forever.

What could have been
And
What is now.

What could have been
And
What is now?

What could have been
And
What is, is.

Nights are always longer
When the words come
And they do not match
The feeling of, well,

I cannot say.

Off I go then,
Off

To another series

Of reiterative days

Aglow with

What could have been
And
What may different

Tomorrow.