The ladybugs

Seem so light

And hopeful

I need to see one soon

My own eyes

Can be replenished

When I see the lady bug

Late night

Worries

Do me no good

Helping my own little

Hope of being

Understood

For many things

I do not understand

As I see through the eyes

Of being a man

Pickle days

Today

Yesterday

All the way

From one to another

The days of simplicity

Seem so much further away

Than close to home

Learning to hold up

Now

On our own

I always liked that orange skirt

The one you wore when

We went out

The memories we have

Beautifully painted looks

Of you

A skinny release

From a lengthy stay

Has me feeling up in arms

And torn away

I can’t be perfect

And never have done so

This I must learn

In order to grow

The Waiting Grain

The waiting game

In the local grocery store

Looking for a few items more

In a world that seems

To be falling in

Around us

The darkness as night

Has a meaning

That I can’t seem to understand

I can truly say

I have no plan

I try to stand

History tall

In a world

That makes me feel

All but large

And quite small

But we do our best

In moments like these

Trying to live up for

History

Zonked art

Some would say

A day older

And now a day further

Away

Zonked art

Sitting on the shelves

Nothing more to say

Than

What the hell

A groovy minute

Long

Moment

When the holders

Hand is no longer holding

What the wind is blowing

How so much can go by

Without even knowing

That there was a moment

And now it is gone