Friday, September 1, 2017

On September 1, 2017. Journal Notes

1.  I want to seize this time gathering my thoughts

My muse bids me - in September

There is so much to write

and nothing to write at all

I want you, dense, like smoke.

2.  Photos of your dwellings make me cry

a porch,  a castle, and empty bench near the lake

I remember our house

when I kept your shoes.

Why do you always leave me?

Your promise of coming back is what I hold dearest.

Around the visionary earth

I wait like a child

If I could only tell you what you meant,

there is no point in writing.