almost friday

I write

late at night

when all is quiet

the cat is still awake

chasing a ball of yarn

you’re fast asleep

and I’m in bed

with poetry

end of summer

it’s been raining quite a bit

but now the sun hangs

low in the sky

on this hazy morning

a few leaves are scattered

here and there

the air is crisp

colors are no longer pastel

and I sit quietly

on this train ride

to Autumn

another night

alone–

though I know

you’ll be back

in the morning

that feeling

of abandonment kicks in

come on–

I should be over this

already

but some scars

never quite heal

if I don’t let go

quote of the day

Whoever doesn’t love you back isn’t worthy of you.

11:59 pm

It’s nearly midnight

and I’m still up–

counting the stars

today’s question

what do you dream about

he asked–

and I said, I dream of you

fashionably late

little black dress

red shoes–

moonlit rendezvous

Magic of Words

A word is worth a thousand pictures