And those we wish we had written.
.
After 42 days, look for a change in the weather,
Subtle,
Maybe just the light, for a moment,
Or a shuttered day in clouds.
Regardless, someone’s head will turn,
Like catching a whiff of silence
Almost. Another curious pause,
In a rarely checked routine.
.
On that day, I should be drawn back in:
tempted by the familiar,
Sinking back into the reflection,
Or falling to the side,
In difference.
.
Just leave me some thread,
Or mark, to orient,
And resume. I’ll finish this poem,
And the others too.
Remind me!
When the wind turns,
And a quiet spell might linger.
Shaken Rain 