Like little blocks 
I knew as
a child I
have been busy 
building unlike some 
games people play 
that remove pieces 
tempting the fate
of the tower
I have been 
patiently adding more 
like a beaver 
for its safety 
adding things new 
for my dam
to ward off
misery and despair 
and to swim
in the pond
of my making 

I imagine 
that rain 
on windows 
are the
taps of
fingers upon
my shoulder 
of suitors
vying for 
my attention 
and I
a debutant 
new to 
all this 
oh who
to talk 
to first 

Another millstone 
turns milestone 
another moniker 
becomes marker
and I 
am marked
as prolific 
six thousand 
years ago 
my soul
was destined
and now 
six thousand 
poems later 
I poet
do be 

Sleep called
asking to
come over 
to bed 
we went 
chit chatting 
before slowly 
drifting off
like those 
first few
snowflakes that 
gather up 
in corners