It’s not the day it was, it’s not the clock I’m watching. It’s not the crow in the tree or the dogs in the yard. The lines are off, the rhyme is broken, the light is bright and useless too. Blessings and curses come and go; neither are enough. The riotous rain is gone, but the damage is done, seeping through the ceiling in the dining room. The roof won’t take another determined drizzle. The house won’t stand much longer. I am lost and you are gone, and I still keep going out in the on and on.
More Blogs
-
1
signs
It’s the season where faith wakes up and sees its shadow, where the… -
0
Curtains!
So this is how it all ends, not with a bang but with a whistle. You… -
0
out in the anecdotal
It’s the numbers where they get you, the assembly that is accounted… -
0
the repetitions
The sun wanders towards the west hunkering down below the horizo… -
0
touch
I couldn’t say what I miss the most, now that missing is mostly all… -
0
John Cusack in the rain
What more could we want from the world? A road or two to hobble on … -
0
harpoon
You like to think of it like lessons, only they’re the ones that ne… -
0
invisible
You wake within your summoned skin, a sting of blue a slash of whit… -
0
it’s a gift
I suppose I could go from ache to ache striving down the line, like… -
0
day glo
So what of the run on night? What of the rasp and curl of a smoke c…