a needle of touch
elates my skin
the smoke of a moment
gets me high
I can drink non-stop
many pints of affection
in certain gray moods
I’ll sit alone by a clouded
window and wait for rain
there’s a unique kindness
in rainfall that penetrates
more than the heart
crickets gossip in shadowy corners the moon glows through the clouds the morning starts evil-gray as the past maintains its grip waiting for the present to catch light of a future as the dogs and I re
time steals your hourly balance as often as clouds slip in and out of circulation and since you can’t accumulate or invest minutes or months why underspend days or put away years for some later date?