
Shaking in my hand, swirling gold forward, sideways and back.
It’s just one this but then there is that and suddenly another year throws a coy smile over shoulders looking to a bowed head not looking at.
Ten minutes ago I was twenty.
Oh, don’t get me wrong I mutter in barroom scat, so many good things.
So many good things I whisper back.
The end of those and that, which was which and I’m not one for talking, thank you though.
You are Paul, Greg, Stephen. I smile and won’t remember any of that.
The sound of a laugh sounds back because isn’t it funny all this craft, weaving and mixing, trying to say little to nothing while speaking too much in fact.
I’ll see you tomorrow through fat smiles,
lights go off,
we’ll chat.
About the Creator
Mark R. Cieslak
Trying to tell some of the silly stories that crowd my head. Maybe you like one. If not its still cheaper than therapy.

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