Tuesday, March 7, 2017

7: Lost in a Dangling Conversation

It's 11:37 p.m.
Just pulled from the warm coccoon of the smaller little's bed
(because I'm a good-luck charm, right --- I make bedtime less scary)
I sit here now
to slice
because it's 11:39 p.m.
and there are only clunky words 
adding to this post's bottom line
snippets of ideas
parlaying into nothing
but scraps of future posts
about bowties
green eyes
or might we say, hazel
because it's 11:45 p.m.
and the quote about writing
from Joni Mitchell is
poetically lost
and is another scrap added
to the pile of future posts
It's 11:46 p.m.
He sleeps
I dream
of words smooth and strong
that run around the block tonight
like a teenage boy
Will they relent tomorrow
when I sit to write again
because it's 11:47 p.m.
and all I have to offer you is
this "dangling conversation and superficial sighs"
ala Simon and Garfunkel
Because it's 11:52 p.m.

Write on,


  1. Love your scraps of ideas slice/poem/blog post/musing!

  2. you put all those disparate pieces together so well, linked by the clock ticking relentlessly toward midnight.

  3. I never see clunky words in your cleverly created posts. Time does tick away, but the challenge is met.


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