I knew the day would come that I just would not be feeling it. Actually, I do feel a bit under the weather. But I have done it. I have cut myself some slack though. Let’s just say it is a micropoem. But I have spent a bit of time at poetry practice nonetheless.
The world is a worry bead everyone is rubbing.
When did so many humans begin to yearn to immolate?
While others of my kind are spinning a silken case,
Awaiting the right time to unswathe
To flutter and create another kind of chaos.
Copyright Bee Smith 2018
Featured image by Suzanne D. Williams on unsplash.com