Before I retire, a sip or two of scattering thought tornadoes, then sleep. Thunder in the air, while I'm looking for lightening, pants caught down. Reasons why concentration bent, quietly with force, seamlessly. When feet quit trying, when eyelids close, what am I missing? Running into objects without care living in naps, huge awareness gaps. Introduce me to fostering focus, deep joy when a map is complete. * Student ready to learn, notepad out during every storm. After writing nicely and neatly, buttered hands give notes a fair slip. Coach yelling this isn't ignorance now, this is just laziness. This isn't helplessness, no, this is choosing to be weak. Sleeping for a little WHILE, sleeping for long ride, driver? Testament to whom or what, decide.
Edmond is an INFJ layman writer, creating freestyle poetry as an outlet for his emotions for over thirty years.
He can be reached at: Carolinawriter@protonmail.com
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