Tuesday

I stare through an open, wide window
Breezy
Five feet away, in a frail wooden chair
Winged creatures sing to the morning clouds
I see my favorite garden of flowers
In a short distance. The sun rubs my face
Hands politely resting in my lap. No cig.
I smile at sweet passing thoughts
And, remember a dark and homely stranger
She told me I was beautiful
Records playing in the background
Oh, Nina Simone
I think I’m feeling good

Leave a comment