Spring Cleaning
You have given me a manner of days
To sort through my closet,
To dust off my psyche,
And organize my thoughts.
But my mind is clean,
My thoughts may not be neatly organized but my feelings are
pure.
If you ask me to extract any reason from the heap of thingers
on my bed
I will just shrug and tell you that it is not possible.
These thingers cushion my head as it falls upon its pillow
They enwrap me with comfort and warmth as I dream.
Without thingers all there is,
Well its nothing but
sterile space.
No comments:
Post a Comment