The sun is low
the moon is high
the sky’s aglow
and I get by
on coffee
and hope
and light.
The heady air
is in my lungs.
My head is bare.
I speak in tongues
of futures
and hope
that’s bright.
The night is waiting
but day is long –
time for creating
another song
with nonsense
and hope
and rhyme.
While sun is shining
there’s time for fun;
there’s no divining
when day is done –
depleted
of hope
and time.
