dots

the dots are slowly disconnecting I can see it coming now the register jams more often did I do that and why...or how? 'yes, you told me that remember...? but it's okay everything is fine' the signs are now clear this creeping fear the foggy mist of my decline the familiar sound of the 2 o'clock train snaps me out of my hazy state I move to the porch and view the mountains listening to nature I wait the new Sun is crisp and it's warmth dries the night the first cup of coffee with the first sign of light I search for the shirt that I'll wear on this day and my best fitting jeans then to Father I'll pray the walk isn't far half mile...a bit more odd smile from Ms Harris as she opens her door the wildlife remain calm as I take up a seat pulled out a Lucky and inhaled it deep the dots reconnect head bowed on my knees 2 o'clock comes and goes like a chirp in the breeze

Deckard

I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...

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