Dear God, It’s January

Therefore, it’s Saturday & I’m home.
My fingers are electrically quipped,
but I’ve not much to say about the wall
clock & its battery constantly running low.
Rain funnels steady through the back awning
gutter. No one else hear its pent-up expression.
I respectfully remain quiet as can be, robed
and sitting cross-legged on the floral dining
chair I will name Lydia. My feelings deepen
about why I’m here. What gives with all this typing?
Why this derangement? And if I’m being perfectly honest,
what’s the real reason I pull my feet up off the floor?
O, – I’m cocooned in a refrigerator hum and a metronome
{tick, tick} as I peck out a life in unexplainable, unimaginable,
and more often than not … unintelligible clicks.
Dear God, you know how much I’m ardent for visionary composition,
per chance, per chance. Sacred words saved for another time or day.

(day 7 “time” for Quickly)


5 thoughts on “Dear God, It’s January

  1. Do we ever get to really choose direction.
    Saturday a good day as any to start.

    The birds may be partying…but I’ve got to go out to a party.
    And I’d rather curl up and listen to appliances hum. 🙂
    Thanks for stopping by ~
    Happy New Year.

  2. Another favorite to add to the list.
    “what’s the real reason I pull my feet up off the floor?”
    I penciled this same question in a much less poetic fashion–Why are we here?
    OMG..I loved this so much.
    I could hear your scene–that’s a difficult thing to do and you make it look easy.

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