Starting Somewhere Nowhere
The morning has no news of me.
I may have to dig out words
from their squirmy underground nests,
look for a hungry starling
in an imagined tree.
Envision my upside down figure
legs waving above ground half buried.
Something to get the turgid blood flowing.
Now I see a thread, and now go quickly to follow it
to where these lines abruptly end,
in order to begin.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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