Sunday, February 17, 2019


Gray Sundays seem to inspire gray poems.

Trying to get back in the groove.
can be difficult.
Wind, rain, life
have erased the ruts.
Trying to find my rhythm
in a new song.
Trying to blend in,
not be noticed
any more than necessary.
Trying to find my place
in this world,
in my life,
maybe even in someone else's life.
Trying to continue on a path
I know too well.
Trying to set my personal GPS
to find new routes,
new places,
new adventures,
new people.