Getting Off on a Tangent

Sipping a hot to-go cup of café con leche. Eating a cold chicken Alfredo bread bowl. Not much in the way of Sunday breakfast, but in a strange way it uplifts my soul.

Sitting in silence contemplating morning. Dreaming of boats that’ll never be bought. Not penning books I ought to be writing, but writing poems that take little thought.

Watching day after day drift by distracted. Blaming inspiration for not sparking anew. It’s not that I’ve lost passion for writing, but simply found more reasons to screw.

~g