Another morning, mark it Sunday
what happened to Saturday
Seems was just September
cool breeze flowing through
old Pontiac convert and listening
to songs that had words not grunts
lots of beer in the trunk.
Excuse me for saying hello again
but you may have not heard before
it’s rather obvious weather is about to change
see, Mother Earth has her moods too.
Sunday, which leaves the sky open to invite
blues and birds and butterflies
and to tell grayness not to appear
so they can be used in a later story
about a bare tree that’s beautiful.
Whoa dammit!! I’m not done yet
so don’t press the like button so quick..
I once watched a painter paint
a poet write
a singer cry
an innocent child die
all while living life