I've been landing on you
after all these months of
travellin'
if I took a blue car
and drove around the hills
at the dead of night
would the blue
of my car
be blue with the blue
of the night
I feel a little bit
faded and cracked
around my edges
like the tea cozy
that found itself a victim
to Cub's gnaws
it's with the same ferocity
that life gnaws at my edges
and my insides
and I try to outrun it
fast and pacy
trying to get places
that I know nothing of
but cups of tea
are always a friendly constant
earl grey, mint and ginger
it's like their smells are
going to mark
passage of time for me
through wintry Januaries
and monsoons
which bring with them
only more poetry
leaving Cub and me
musing on the balcony
maybe the next time
January is around the corner
I will have the same question
for it -
must you?
