My muse is distracted.
She runs to oleanders and clouds
tells me to look but says nothing
then floats in a narrow sunbeam
Dust motes rise and roll
particles swirl glide and fall
a snowstorm of afterthoughts
in ephemeral suspension
A tiny translucent bug hovers
scavenges or maybe just gleans
in between; is it even alive?
My eyes cannot see
Is that what I have become?
A barely there thing,
a postscript, an irritation,
another corpse to bury?
unbuttoned or undone 
Sounds like your muse has clouds between her ears and dust in her oleanders, Emm. ‘Tis a beautiful day here, but just a tad chilly. Happy day to ya ! 🙂
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Sometimes she does I’m afraid.
The sun is shiining and the oleanders are shorn for the winter…. Let’s see if the mood lightenens up. Happy day to you my friend.
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Poetic, melancholy, magical and morbid.
Encore un tour de force.
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I disagree with morbid, but I appreciate the other three adjectives. Thank you.
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Never one to argue with the poet, perhaps AnElephant takes your final line too literally.
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No offense taken my pink friend.
It’s just a poetic question, not a suicidal state of mind. 😉
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No one who writes like you could ever, ever be called a postscript.
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Sometimes that’s all we are in people’s lives you know.
That said, a postscript in one place can be the theme in another, so it’s not so dark 😉
Thank you for your kind words JZ.
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If you’re referenced you live on 😉
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Quite true! I had not thought about that. Hmmm… totally happifying 🙂
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Yesterday in a storefront I saw a promotional poster: “Doldrums”.
I thought of taking a photo of it and sending it to you – might still.
Apparently even doldrums are something we can make art with…
🙂
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I am curious to see the poster. 😉
Hugs
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Hi Em! First my deepest heartfelt emotions pour out in support of the people of France in their personal and national sorrow for the terrible events that have captured the world’s heart. I fought this evil for most of my life but i and my brethren and sisters in arms will never be enough. It is the strength of unity in the hearts and minds of the free people, who will not be bowed by this evil that will defeat it. And now to your poem, I felt this in a very positive way because for me to sometimes go silent and lose my sense of self, gives me great rest and respite and then my muse and my internal dialog return from vacation ready to move forward. Hope it’s the same for you as well! Many hugs for you and your beautiful thoughts.
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