I’m leaving this right here
one text with words that fear
the clouds like days before
my mind is spinning to the core
of still three days to go —

                midnight stretches its claws
                onto the clock running it faster
                dark hours never seen their master
                in me but make up a conspiracy
                against growing deliracy —

                twenty minutes still move on
                and then this day might close its door
                running in circles to the shore
                collecting letter by letter
                for my grey matter —

this daily drama of some kind
makes me wonder and partly blind
can I rest on collected words
sometimes I admire early birds
at least the owl in me.

        © Dominik Alexander / 2023
        © Amy Art-Dreams (image)