Suite
Weight
We danced.
In my dreams, I can dance.
We flew.
In my dreams, I can fly.
I woke,
once again too stolid
and solid
to dance or fly.
Process
Sometimes, I know
what I'm doing
but most times
it's just improvisation
with phrases of unknown origin
swirling in my head
with the white space of Word
providing the frame.
Days
Each tedious day,
my passions die
and I die with them.
We danced.
In my dreams, I can dance.
We flew.
In my dreams, I can fly.
I woke,
once again too stolid
and solid
to dance or fly.
Process
Sometimes, I know
what I'm doing
but most times
it's just improvisation
with phrases of unknown origin
swirling in my head
with the white space of Word
providing the frame.
Days
Each tedious day,
my passions die
and I die with them.
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Author's Note
Little things in a group.
Other stories by Gary Hardaway
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Two out of three ain't bad. Weight and Process are me. Maybe Days is, too, but I resist.
Thank you, Matt.
I admire the economy and the elegance.
Love "the white space of Word providing the frame." I like that much better than thinking about the blank page.
Love "Days" too.
Thank you, Dianne.
"but most times
it's just improvisation"
To be able to improvise is an asset, I think. And can be quite creative.
Thank you, Erika.
I'm there with you in Process, but I dance and fly now, and will not let my passions die until I die. A coma will do that to you. So well crafted.
I'm there with you in Process, but I dance and fly now, and will not let my passions die until I die. A coma will do that to you. So well crafted.
Thank you, Juhi.
"Sometimes, I know
what I'm doing
but most times
it's just improvisation"
A mantra for my head. Good set, Gary.
Thank you, Sam.
*, Gary. I like this well-written, self-assessment poetry.
Thank you, David.
So much of everything in so few words. *
Thank you, Beate.