grey skies and
drip drops on window panes and
the perfect day to nap your stress away
and
the perfect evening to be lulled into deep deep sleep

~~~

evening pages
much much later than normal poetry time
[am i just doing this
to say that i did it?]

[isn’t that all life is anyway?]

~~~

i think
three
poems is enough poems
for such a late late night
poem-writing-time