24

• Coffee broils up to the top compartment of the pot on the stove

it is a dish that is never clean

washed quickly for each morning use

• I am a bag full of sneezes and greasy hair

a poufy deep brown mesh like a cloak

• The sky across is murky grey

earlier, during my morning prayer, a faint blue held out above the yard

I suspect it gone now, souped up into the low clouds

• While playing the piano (not well) the dog howls or yelp

slower when it is melancholic, I swear I hear him cry

• Maybe to dance is how I will spend the day

push off further my work but no one will mind

• one year back there was a wonderful dinner and hands held over me

like I was a new born, was it happy then? must have been two years back, actually

memories are not the way I expected them as a child

• This year, in my plea to self and plight to God

I shall be supported in this lonesome march

know better, act better, becoming each day

life occurs in 12s, and with two under the belt I am fresh again

• My sister called to tell me of her dream

a great grocery themed wedding in the yard out back and an unfortunate,

unlikely suitor and unfortunate, downright ugly orange kitten heals to escort my fate

maybe I have something to look forward to this year

• Let not all be forgotten and lost, for this year I have come to write again!

what they say about age is true, rather aging

there is more to say, rather more ways to attempt to convey our inner chasms

• The dog and I (man in my life) will head out soon

first thought was a ski but looking fairly miserable

oh middle of January it is a cold day to look in the mirror

• Next year I might be kissed again, what a thought!

there still stands a Christmas tree that needs to be dealt with

lest I not get too ahead of myself and forget the day at hand

• yes I am resolute – it works in 12s

twelve years back I believe it was I had a bowling party (I am no good)

twelve long years I can hardly recount

on with it then! this year I chrism her new