Today, reading is not working for me. Not a
word with which to begin is to be found.
The music playing seems empty and hollow
as a dried Arizona well.
There are discordant notes, but no symphony
to stimulate me.
Today, my daily routine does not lead me to
a thought I can use.
I know it’s bound to happen this way from
time to time, but still…
This may well be the day my writing streak
ends and the dreaded drought begins.
I plug my cell phone into its charger. The battery
and I have needs, energy—electrical, super natural,
creative, you know.
The light appears indicating it’s working. I could
certainly use one of those.
The day is not a total loss. I’ll move on to other
things. Perhaps I’ll trim my nails and have another
cup of coffee, or I might try reading again.
When the cell phone battery is fully charged,
I will likely not be calling you.
Today, at least for now, I have nothing to say,
nothing of value anyway.
I’m still recharging, waiting for the power of my
creativity to sprout a fruitful image or two on
the page.
Alas, given my arid state of mind today, this withered
offering will have to do.
-30-
Chris Hanch 8-28-2020
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