Mondays are just young Fridays
What happens when you step away
from the everyday, for a while
(or longer)?
A new locale, an unfamiliar bed, an
alternative view overhead
there is always another way instead;
at least there will be this week.
Even a wristwatch looks different today
for deadlines have no purpose or place
this week.
A well-deserved break, to say the least.
11/04/2024 j.g.l.
cloud songs
What of today, tomorrow
or next week?
What about the weary,
the impoverished, and the meek?
What becomes the answer or
the validation that you seek?
11/01/2024 j.g.l.
I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
night thoughts 5:47
Posted on March 12, 2020 by j.g.lewis
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Woefully inadequate,
absent-minded at times,
I’ve given up with the
murky delusions which
once easily sated a
temporary existence.
The darkness at 5:47 in
the morning will soon
be bothered by sunlight’s
brash persistence.
I’m no longer protected
by indecision or sorrow.
j.g.l.
