6142. I AM DISLOCATED

I AM DISLOCATED

My reach is out of reach; the sedate manners

of the sun and moon have calmed me now. It

is six in the morning, and everything around me

remains dark  -  cold and wet, and dark. This

chunk of coffee tries as it can to placate my

anxious mind. What if it never gets light again?

-

December is so good for that  -  those weeks before

official Winter which command anyway that they are

Winter  -  you be damned. The new cold air and

wind again, bringing forth everything almost as

noxious and frozen as a bad dream would bring.

-

So, I'll sit, and to Hell with the rest  -  with a 

lightbulb on, at my side, I can read and write, I

can think through this effort, can weather
this fight, to try and somehow make 
something of myself anew.