Almost, some writing on a Tuesday.
The stutter steps of crunching acorns
Surround the brilliant blues of sky and mood.
And there is almost within me some (w)hole.
Tuesday’s child is full of grace
And that is inside me from the start
But the only thing that comes to mind is:
“I will pelt you with rocks and garbage.”
And it is Tuesday almost and time to fling these thoughts
Like acorns and watch them explode into the fire of nearly
Fall. And a million and's and but's and missteps
Crunching leaves and ideas and acorn hats until
I lean to pick the pieces from my shoes and almost
Fall myself.
