Paint by Numbers

Lake Jessup, March

Splinter of almost
Litter my cereal bowl
A morning drinking of the easy slow sad feeling called alone
Throw down your contentment gauntlet
Lash out at this upheaval
And question my frustration
As you have four feet you stand on
I, two
Ten toes
You, twenty
One moves, one watches
I float through the anti-gravity movement of alone
No up
No down
No hand to steady me on my way past sound
No cradle to rock me to a steady four footed ground

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