I
newness

Soft sounds sooth the soul
as I sit in soft soliloquy
mulling over days of old
pouring like molasses

and I sigh
deep
emphatic

lookabout
at the newness.

Some things I can’t recall,
reckon or reconcile; feelings
reasonings, rightness and
too oft his anger, my sadness.

I reach deep grasping…nothing,
the white space feeding well
hollowing out stagnations,
making room for soft smiles

cool curves
ink, steel
and sparklys.

II
All I have are bits and barnacles
of old journals and evocative musings
to tell me who I was once and mayhap
soft smiles of hard things gotten past.

III
I had just settled into
the shoulds of staying,
listing out the whys of
what needs be done

when one
reminiscent of the sun…
come and stole my logic.