I’m thinking.

My thoughts are not the wind

and no, they do not go

the way wind usually decides to blow.


My thoughts are more like

scattering of leaves:

child’s boot kicking about

a once-raked pile

swept away the next day.


(Some linger the winter

to rot into the ground)


Sometimes I catch a thought in my mouth

like a fluffy flake of snow and it melts away

on my tongue, too quick

to be savored.


Other times I sink my teeth in

like a dog enamored with meat

and yes sometimes

I too forget to chew.


My thoughts are like dense rain clouds —




My thoughts are like falling rain

splashing and diagonal

creating puddles big enough

for us — I mean, me —

to sink or swim.



(Artwork found here: https://www.antoinettenausikaa.com/)


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