April 7, 2022

Daily Reader

Closing hours closed and late nights are yours.

Early mornings, yours and blued light through blinds.

Hoof-torn sideyards not sidearms.

Not please. Not excuse me.

Daily needs vs. wants hopes dreams.

As in what you need, before.

Like backseat, windows down.

Like the forest pressing in on the sound

And it’s all passing by.

Here’s where the air tastes like morning light well into the night.

The crickets you think you hear and more.

False starts, no matter.

False floors.

Like we’re waiting till nobody comes.