ruined atmosphere

red sky showing the final
use of mystic tools and
instruments of inspirational weaponry
normally calm hands shake
eager in anticipation of
dissolving resistance to the celebration
arranging decorations mentally
then quickly changing the idea
molding the discovery of a year unseen
open the door to
several directions of instant serendipity
pull out the shaker and give me some ice
have a tall sip and remember
empty glass like a politician’s eyes
red and glazed
every day a long long race
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About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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