Fine Fooling Myself
Do not go gentle into that good night but rage,
rage against the dying of the light
—Dylan Thomas
sunny outside, not
cloudy inside; out
of my mind, mindless
wandering and wondering;
fine - fooling myself?
days tedious, no drums.
no inkling of a violin,
even to suffer with.
May be smoking hot,
but red skin is turning white.
falling up, failing to feel sorry
for oneself. calls limited
to a free for all. Fall
can’t come soon enough
with its brisk breeze,
booming colors, activities.
still, I will rest. I rest
in the curve
of the Almighty’s arm.
the arrow is set
in the string of the bow.
my smile longs
to jettison on the wind.
a windy day, to feel
the joy of friendship,
to fill my quiver
with euphoria.
still, we all must give up
a bit of ourselves,
not to be too full
of ourselves.
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