I've been up for hours in my dreams
making up for wasted time
making such discoveries
and other things as shall be mine,
much as I am wont to do!
Waking hours waking days,
and uses I have put them to -
except, perhaps: a higher grade
than usual and everyday.
Not the best I've ever been.
Just a happy consciousness
of being on a streak, a roll:
the zone where muse and vision sit
and flow and aim in such made win.
Comfort in a pushing past.
Familiar always, suddenly.
Surprising always. Gratitude.
But I'm asleep. The joke's on me.
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
but aren't they all random?
Wednesday, July 28, 2021
hours waking days
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