Today, tired eyes floated across light blue
college-ruled lines and down heavily waxed
floors. Rooms smelled like paper and plastic
as the dew dripped from the leaves in
the golden sunrise.
Today emerged into cold ankles and warm feet
on the carpet; learning how to dance a
mental waltz, from poetry to metaphorical
symmetry. Finding the strings and searching
for their ends, I pull one to see what I will
discover, but they are just strings
and I am just tired.