Black Friday


Far from the mad, greedy crowds

I awaken late morning,

rested, disappointed.

No poems came to me this morning

I let the time/space of semi-consciousness

When I still remember my dreams

Pass, while I listened to phone messages.


I could have written of thoughts

I hadn’t known

or of dreams of worry, color and panic.

Perhaps meaningless, perhaps beautiful.


Instead I walked and fed the dog

And spoke to an old friend on the phone.

I visited with my college age son

And self medicated my afflicted bronchia.

I shopped on line, sent messages to friends over the air.

I coughed, and coughed and coughed.


It is now mid afternoon.

I will rest again, sleep again.

I hope I will rest in the state between

dreaming and waking,

Remembering, writing, creating.



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