the Sun was dragging it's lunchpail;
i knew it was gonna be a long day.
when the Sun says he's leaving early;
he does. seems the Moon's gotta catch-up.

the day was still lingering languidly;
seems he had promised the Moon
he'd stay til she got back from yesterday.
then, he asked if my stories were true?

i said yes, except for the lies.
falling asleep at his desk,
for him, it's a good thing poetry
takes photographs of the past.

my stress test is tomorrow;
why should that be?
my stress started years ago.
and i'm making notes.

a misty day begins the rusting;
as refined steel, trees grin.
they grin as new buds begin.
replace last year's rusty leaves.

and me trying to keep up with it all;
yjmp, oensd, exut[lded.
i said 'huh?'
she was off a key-stroke.

09/23/2009

Posted on 09/23/2009
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