again. Been in this battle
since when. But I’ve readied myself
to ride out into that cold dark
night, following the trial of

stars and moonlight. I’ve packed
light. My pen is my compass
and friend. I’ve sheets without
a bed, spread *****-nilly in this

head. Till I lay them down,
wrinkled as a turtle on the beach,
and dripping as a sun-sweet apple
peach. I’ve nectar without a flower. The bees

are the hours that’ll pollinate the
chapters, filled with teardrops and laughter. As I
turn the page on all my younger days
I'll heave a billowing sigh out toward a blistering sky.