233 (a poem)

Where there’s fire and a whole lot of wind, there’s smoke—and a lot of it.

I saw a dime-sized spot
in the sky today

The sun usually follows me
wherever I go

But this time
it was just sitting there
watching

—

Film grain
yellow-grey
the color of confusion
drawn between lines
already filled

—

A dull whoooooossssssshh
a high whir
a low hummmmm
a pinch of whine
the occasional rattle for flavor

This is my music today

(12 September 2020)

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