thinking of nothing
and nothing thinking of me;
hiding discreetly.

a moment in time,
mercilessly bleeding out,
fades to sepia.

on the verge of it,
is the urge for it only
muscle memory?

whoever you are,
however you arrived here,
take a step inside.

here is where we are,
the only question being
whether we belong.

mountains from molehills,
stressors ever inflating;
where’s my giant pin?

Tags: stress

running hot and cold,
given to extreme measures –
- English, not metric.

wandering around
my restless Saturday mind
‘til answers arrive.

living in high speed,
forgetting what it was like
when we had patience.

it must be summer,
the season now arriving
well behind the heat.

this life is only
a soul-refining process,
progress optional.