Cloudy sky
mutes sun
daybreak whispers
through the
hazy whiskers
of damp
gray dark
Sunday morning
nothing tempts
or beckons
besides blankets
and pillows
Fight
Do I
don’t I
I’m scales
of justice
weighing hope
on one
tray expectancy
on the
other disappointment
and each
suitor steps
forward for
his weigh-in
it’s gotta
be a
fair fight
after all
Gates
I don’t think
that the Universe
always opens windows
after closing doors
what I think
that it does
is unlock the
gateways that we
have to find
it’s still up
to us as
to whether or
not we do
Crystal
You can’t
poke holes
into water
any more
than you
can poke
holes into
my peace
while what
you used
will shine
it will
slowly dull
but I
will continue
to glisten
like crystal
Beach
I don’t swim
but rather dip
or maybe wade
in the chaos
sure of footing
retreat I will
free from waves
that start far
offshore and take
their drama out
on those unaware
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 