Uninspired

©2019 CMBClary The vibration of the washer through the wall makes the bed ripple beneath me. My thoughts scatter like shredded paper and I struggle to pick them up and make something coherent of them. All the want of being alone, when I finally am, the desire to produce eludes me. A slight ringing in

The Spaces In-between

Life, so full at times, Even all the spaces in-between. A fullness that inundates every crevice. This too will pass. Soft skin to folds of leathery lines, Strong steady hands to trembling decline. Golden locks to un-kept silver strands. And time, While filled with too much, still insatiable. Do not grow weary of your busy