April 3, 2022

the day is gray
and rainy
and my capacity sits at the precipice
of being awake and creative enough
to write and read and work and create
and all those good things,
and that of succumbing to the drear
of the clouds and rain and outside
drain my creativity
until my body floats like vapor
up to the sky

[[[to fly?]]]

March 12, 2022

a whole host of
feelings
dreary
hungry
tired
that seem to
disconnect
me from feeling
any other things
[inspired
full-spirited
interest]

~~~

this winter seems to go on forever
except
unlike the Wisconsin winters
i’d been used to,
this one has a very
Cleveland flare:
stopping for a day or two,
letting the flowers in the yard
start to peak from the ground,
green stems pointing towards the sky,
before dumping another
few inches
or damn near
a whole foot
of freezing rain/hail/sleet/
pure snow
on us once more
(only to have all that
melt
in a matter of days,
and have the buds
begin
to emulate
full flowers;
colors in the back
side
front yards
before it all turns to white again
just for the green to stick out
over top)

the fight
over what season
March
should be.

~~~

what to write about
in mornings when i feel
the least like myself;
not even more sad
than my usual rainbow demeanor,
just too tired
to be
me
?