where i don’t feel quite as crazy
with all my obsessions, peculiarities,
hang ups, and ticks
with all my lists
of what’s worked
what hasn’t
at the job, at life, and at marriage
listen, let me say this straight,
any long road dips
in places
sometimes it’s a fresh valley
fruit rich, summer blue
sometimes it’s a desert valley
all stones shaped like tears
dust heavy
as days of weeping
eventually, dust gives up on wind
settles down
stones start to resemble apples
then become them
the apples, sweet or sour,
a gift like years
Copyright 2016 Mike James
Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
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