after the ash of the month

meets this one coming down the road

a match meets the paper and a flame

Which places your own way to

tomorrow and knows what that means now

but the amount a mean word means is

off the charts now that I see

your soul and where it meets me now

in the moment of a stab of attitude or

a hurt that knows you don’t care about

what happened two minutes ago

or when the clouds come across your

vision or the horizon

when it keeps our day like the last one

Or the first day we met again

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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