Ever the wanter
One-sided, tracking my mind toward dreaming
When I see music it makes me long
For all of the moments when I was undone
Getting by is making time
Slotting out a pause to gleen in that bliss
whatever tired promises I make myself,
At least I am making something
Making space
In figurative mind
And actual room
Bursting with aching
When is my chance?
It’s no wonder I’m a maker
Without diligence I am rotten
Withered at the roots
An empty medicine
Trees crying at my site
I know, at least, it is better
That I took a lot of time.
Sarah C Louise 