Relative Something

*this* John W. Hays' take on things and experiences

Again

leave a comment »

.

now what is happening
to make everything alright
to change the outcome
to illuminate the night
in lieu of alternatives
in light of more spite
take this little guitar
or it might be a uke
that thought it was a violin
not made out of wood
more like an animal skin
rounded out hollow
one song still within
that it played by itself
oozing memories for others
with fragments that make sense
mostly people
not the places
a door slams me awake
and it’s over
without warning
leaving the sound of the wind
and an endless drone
all crickets and frogs
the very place things begin
there’s a sheet
under there somewhere
bunched and tangled
I smooth it out
then pull up the covers
I’d like to start over
again

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Written by johnwhays

September 4, 2017 at 6:00 am

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: