I collect my thoughts
not like stamps placed neatly in a book nor quarters lined in order,chronological
It's gone. Can I conjure?
Never use terms of 'we'.
But I do, to talk
of you and me.
There's, 'on friends' with 'reflections' and a 'night sky' all together
'caught then and still'.
The water dripping
but no, there it is.
It brings it back.
That simple movement of up and to
and now I know but that was wasted and it's gone...
I think I have it...
If I can silence long enough.
Is the brain betraying,
too amped up on coffee and it all?
written, superfluous but
the much exceeds, spills
and sits till spoiled.
How to quiet the
tumult? Tame the beast or name the beast?
Eat, pray, love. Could it be that simple?
Brought to mind all that calms.