i feel a new urgency
seeing my possibly,
hopefully future,
seeing my way out
and my way in
my way to stay
and to stop
but first the stack
of papers await,
calling me who does
not get to write now
to judge those who do.
i feel a new urgency
seeing my possibly,
hopefully future,
seeing my way out
and my way in
my way to stay
and to stop
but first the stack
of papers await,
calling me who does
not get to write now
to judge those who do.
touched by locomotion
through glades of ever-fleece
hands burning on coffee mugs