Little Tumble

Little tumble

Big fall

Holding my hopes

That we don’t see it all

From the red rock mountains

To the shining seas

What is coming for us

We can not see

Or expect

We wait while

In my mind I dissect

The possibilities

Fluttering Masks

Fluttering masks

In times of confusion

Hoping we can make it

Through

What is real

And an illusion

Fluttering masks

On people faces

But for me I am to wreckless

I guess

Worried too late

Than the rest

Mid Day Coffee Line

Mid day coffee crush

Afternoon slumber crush

The day

With hole fields of caffeine ablaze

Set to a early morning drum

Now a day dreary

Has a firefly sun

In the coffee line

In the afternoon

Not to late

Never too soon