a patchwork of tracks
captured in dried mud–
spring hints.
Day: February 22, 2010
Cinquain
poetryWords
Creating worlds
Writing, breathing, living
Pages of imagination
Stories
i remember being 12,
poetryand i was enamored,
much like when i later got hammered,
and my mind was filled
with thoughts that thrilled
every part of me
as i watched the tv,
and i wanted so much to compete;
and I wanted so much to complete
ly leave behind the stocky boy I used to be
finding the athletic god ahead of me.
so i decided to go get myself a snack,
thinking that tomorrow i would hit the wrack.
is all i feel.
poetrycan’t be cold to cold bodies
can’t feel the warmth either
numbness to numb ones