poem

Lapse

Sometimes it lapses

I lose the focus

Vision shrivels to a curdle

A hazy film between me and the world

Sunrise breaking is just another day

And I’m running out of time

Back to work, the year end blitz.

This white blizzard is only a hazard

That needs to be plowed.

Ice glazing the branches bends

The backs of the front yard trees

Away from the house 

Like stooped old men 

Who ought to be retired.

The sky is barely purple

An illusion that’s real

One mirage after another

Sorted and classified according

To the business and politics of life,

Columned in orderly ledgers.

Is barely purple, the sky.

Look, it’s barely purple

12/18/25