This morning the air
bites like apple cider

and my mind is as clear
as a blue sky

with just a hint of cirrus
and stratus clouds

I have no regrets
nope

none whatsoever

Whit Howland © 2020

Can't seem to get warm tonight
Darkness is a cold blanket
Her arm around my shoulder
Chills my bones.
She pretends to be my friend
To hide me from myself
But she brings her own night
And I am wide awake with my fears.
And she loves it that I can see things
That are not there
And that I can feel her icy touch
On this midsummer afternoon.

the sun is out today
a chill october tuesday
breath it in
and for a second i am still
for a second i'm a feather
breath it in
the world can disappears
calm
even in the darkness
the colors are as vibrant as i remember

I yearn for the days
when I could pull poetry
from my brain
like a string of pearls,
shimmering opal,
so beautiful to all.

Where    have    my    pearls    gone?

A once bright and
red

now

a little deflated
wrinkled and faded

and it's an arm wrestle
or a battle for the soul

but the scissors are there
sitting

on the counter

to lead you to where
the air is much clearer

whit howland © 2020

Often
I  ponder

about the purpose
of dreams

and why the mind
isn't merely wiped clean

and reprogrammed
every night

when moonbeams
breach our windowpanes

and
kiss the skin

whit howland © 2020