Drilling machines toss
Dust and debris up from walls
And the shreds of peace.
Sweeping up at night
I stand with worry and hope
I don’t know what’s next
Who would have thought
A 60th birthday party
Could go till midnight?
Beef stewing for lunch
Mistook the box for curry
Oh well I’ll eat it
July, you’re here now. The summer sun and dog days The year quickly fades
Assembling mixtapes
Tonight the dogs do not bark
The bats wander blind
Stranger, take your place
Not at the top of my mind
That spot is reserved
Over four long days
Fingertips pounded senseless
Fifteen thousand words