We exist, at times silently,
comfortable in our invisibility.
Unnoticeably so.
Unexplained.
We so know, or learn, when
it is time to speak up.
11/08/2024 j.g.l.
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.
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.
11/07/2024
Posted on November 7, 2024 by j.g.lewis
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When that which festers beneath the surface escapes, then permeates what we have known, we are ever reminded of how it felt before.
Anger and animosity will only extend our discomfort.
11/07/2024 j.g.l.
