When we tire of simple things,

we become washed out by predictability,

in a given moment, we lose track,

hoping somehow to find our way back.

~

My eyes flutter in the open ramblings

of an afternoon coffeehouse; my ability

to navigate conversations is whack

of foggy notions, and energy I do lack.

~

If you could step inside my handlings

to understand the world has this fallibility

I am just one of the tiresome pack

of lies in a valley  beyond our follower …

~

There is nonsense in that reactive release

when all we desire is only a lonely peace.