this morning
I led thoughts to paper
- consumed almost
an entire pencil's point -
processing not the
smokey grey facts but
signalling my
ruminations
of them
had I
in this moment
an additional thought
it would probably
be scratched to paper
- however - once saluted
the mid-day sun
thoughts
faded
now
on postmeridian
reprise - idle the pencil
rests while fingers wing
to type in cyber
space
as if that
could suffice
to channel the
pensive drift or
word it to the yellows
and blues
of nearby
pages
ahh! the colours
of sky and sun
pages that have
reaped the confidences
of a mother's
heart
