Chunks

That kind of a day
Wanting more sleep
But the pain too much
So you get up
Because torture
Is not the way you
Want bed to feel

Left with hours
To fill
Read the paper
The Japanese are low
On their stock pile
Of whale meat
Hard for me to understand
We don’t eat whale
I’ve had shark
Swordfish
Vaguely I think
Of how they call
Scouting for herds
Research expeditions
How that just seems wrong

Poetry?
The sun rises over the mountains
But it is light before that
I face the west
And even the birds
Seem subdued
Quieter
As I sit among the green
Petunia flowers partially eaten
I can never catch
the marauding snail
Coffee tastes weak
And my eyes feel
Like they are going through the motions
Seeing only
The same

My heart is not heavy,
Resigned?  Dedicated
To beating
I couldn’t tell you if it
Is cold or warm out
Everything a shield
Here and not here
The sky a light blue
That looks rather flat
Despite the scattering
Of clouds
Unable to move quickly
I do anyway
Because I cannot
Let go of determination

Only my mind
Is slow as ever
Somehow noting
There is one bird
Bound to chirp
Despite no others joining in…
Sigh take a sip
Read the paper more
Try not to look at the dead sky
The eaten flowers
Nor the fact
That lingering dreams
do not breathe deeply
When there seems to be so little air

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