I must find 
my wit it
must’ve slid off
of the bed
in my sleep 
and now hiding 
beneath and behind 
my slippers holiday
decorations and dust 
bunnies how might 
I know I 
can hear them 
giggling you see
dust bunnies are
a silly lot
and laugh at
wits worst jokes 

New curtains hang
the old ones 
grew ever so 
tired like love 
lost and never 
found again except 
on the faces
of once had
been lovers and 
those who frequent 
the corner stool
at the end 
of a bar 

I fill a
void a niche 
or maybe I’m
the void or
the niche inviting 
others to fill 
whichever it is 
the fill or
the emptiness that 
I am I 
am always here 

I so wish 
that you could 
see what I 
see said the 
lover to his
love said the 
poet to his 
words and said 
the angels to 
all of us

This blue is 
my favorite hue
this blue black
right before the 
artist adds yellow 
mixing dawn with 
night light lighter
still until this 
blue my favorite 
hue of blue 
cedes to day