I walk early and fast.
Atone for quick pleasures and rid my head
of thoughts beckoning me into stresses.
Worries that must never bloom. An itch.
And I wonder if leaves at summer stress
over falling from trees… I breathe frost,
and crunch nightmares underfoot.
….. Fast. Fast.

 All these contemplations are a long, long hand,
and I want to write them. Sprawling graffiti. Red
as worries. Tattoo them on my flesh. Carved
on trees. This seventh seal, or is it the sixth…..
I am my own Armageddon. And I continue
to walk and crunch and breathe,
….. early and fast.




Inspired by Bleak House by Charles Dickens


4 thoughts on “Crunch

  1. followed!! wonderful.. good for you attracting NTEREST!! YAY. I have never been much of a poetry reader or writer.. but the way you collect words together and puff them into line makes me want to OWN a book of yours.. so I intently keep in touch so as not to miss out..


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