I am so tired tired and weary 

of the sound of my voice in the morning

coils of mist curl around me   

hanging a wreath or a noose of warning

see I wake in bed like I don’t belong

like common bread and kindness no longer matter

as dawn as a deer comes to lap at my eyes

like a mad thing drawn to poison water

when will we be together again

on these streets newly swept clean

when will we be together

remember what springtime used to mean

I’ve always been good in this solo craft 

never feared thunder or silence

but I feel the gravity as worlds pull apart

and the gulf between each of us widens

strange times indeed smell of burning weeds

set the lungs to coughing

like keats and old hank    and others we thank

for their phosphorus trail to the coffin

when…

wish I was grass growing out of the heart 

of one who lay down in winter 

but robins avoid us no rains raise the blades

the season will not enter      

bent to the wheel I miss my friends

I whistle like a southbound train

it’s safe to say          it’s a good day for sun

will we ever see one again

when…

Mar 2020 - Unrecorded