Dandelion seed
responsibilities float
away on each breath
Procrastination
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Dandelion seed
responsibilities float
away on each breath
Forgotten summer
umbrella aged by winter’s
wig of heavy snow.
Olive pits. Glass shards.
Bent straw. He warns, It’s not a
garbage disposal…
Why bother vowing
change when you’re satisfied with
your lazy-ass self?
Held back by your tight
seventeen syllable leash,
I write elsewhere now.
WordPress stats: twenty-
two-thousand views in ’12. This
despite no new posts.
Food goes bad, beer flat.
But words on a blog are fresh
to new readers’ eyes.
Neglected, ignored.
Like faithful dogs, blogs wait for
their masters’ return.
Meeting tomorrow.
Haven’t even opened it.
That’s life on the edge.
Now she has time to
blow dry her hair while I rub
away sleep, then drive.