It's a quiet night after a busy week. Sunday morning I'll get to read the Sunday paper and maybe rake a few leaves. Spring is trying to arrive and the sky knows. .
Here are a few current thoughts: .
"The past is never dead. It isn't even past." william faulkner
"When I'm alone I practice my oscar speech and I never forget to thank you." . .
How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?.
When is a door not a door? when it's ajar ..
And finally, I have no idea when I wrote this poem..
It's titled FLU.
First my head ... Makes me stay in bed ... Then my lungs...My teeth and tongue...Sore and tight... It’s just not right...My arms and legs... Weigh two kegs.,,,I deserve... To be better served... Than this sorest throat... That can’t emote... Even my toes... And both elbows... Not to mention... No attention... To my many chores... And open doors...On my sleepy pillow... I’m a weeping willow.. . I rest my head... And pretend I’m dead... I feel like lead... What’s worse instead?... Damn! Damn!... I’ve been slammed! ...There’s nothing here... to misconstrue..... I have the fricking flicking flu. . . .
Wishing you a fine day,
love kj ♥