Noted

More clouds are forming today, and in every quarter of the sky. The weather seems prepared for some transition. I'll just drag along behind it. Things happen to me or around me now and I just drift, with nothing to say. The birds and insects all seem so pleased with the days, and they must be right, the time must be pleasant, but I barely notice, being still both achy and dazed. A dandelion drifts across my sight, or some glimmering translucent insect, but it can't compete with the sudden jab in my knee or crick in my neck. Things fall apart, starting with me.

( Sunday Verse )