
I find it far easier
Waking to poetry
Than to news
poetry, prose, and photography

I find it far easier
Waking to poetry
Than to news
Contentment pulls
Me back to slumber
Despair’s grip
Weakens
Anxiety lurks
Waiting to
Wreck havoc
In these days
Where ugliness is glorified
There are moments of beauty
Which make my soul sing
Laying upon sheets
Contentment flows within
The world’s demands
Speak oh so loudly
Eventually I must heed
This siren’s call
The electric dance
of nerves and muscles
senses alive
fully enhanced by
the now.