The Tired Way

The tired way dusted
with eye grain headwinds
chills brain deep. Snatches
of conversation not uttered
heard overhead in branches
from where birds fly out
of sight without identity,
lack scent and leave
white poop on binocular
tongues. Hiss, hiss,
denizens coil louder
and louder while skin
tugs and muscles
twitch to keep joints
out of reach. Every fang
a fight. Every blink
a feather. Serpentine concrete
runs out, lizard dirt
feels toe soft sinking in,
knees, waist, neck, tops
of trees sputtering dust.
Enter. Many electric paths
instead of beginning end
here while the universe fills
as many frames
as necessary.

#NaPoWriMo 2017 Day 10

Discussion:

My last task I’m completing tonight. I’m exhausted. I kept feeling and pushing the images. It’s the snatches of conversation lacking scent and pooping, not the birds.

Long enough.

Post.

Sweet dreamzzz…

Published by

Richard Leis

Richard Leis is a writer and poet living in Tucson, Arizona. His poetry has been published in Impossible Archetype. His essays about fairy tales and technology have been published on Tiny Donkey and Fairy Tale Review’s “Fairy-Tale Files“.