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.