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 —

Wait.

 

No.

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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