A Metal Sieve

gathering-storm

A Metal Sieve

there is a dullness to this world—
this gray-morning-mist-world where
as if in some other reality—
which is the real world—
perhaps in cobalt-blue
an idea storm rages
out beyond the horizon
where i am
unprepared to meet it
a metal sieve
i am a colander where ideas
good and bad go in
and out again too easily—
out into the day untethered


note to self: Catch your breath. You have been here before. Ideas are a dime a dozen.

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4 thoughts on “A Metal Sieve

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