Fatigue hangs on me
like heavy ornaments
on a late February Christmas tree
branches brittle and bare
needles dropping to floor
carpeted
in half-finished projects
incomplete thoughts
good–but soon forgotten– intentions
so much aromatic debris
carelessly spilling around my feet
© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved
I have a mental picture of that weary tree, but I remember too that such a tree, brittle and dry, takes only a small spark to burn like a bonfire, bright , fast, and wild.
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
Christine Ray – weariness
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