Somewhere in my mind, the dusk has turned to night…in spite of the day.

Somewhere in my heart, I am no longer part of the claret fray.

The self medicating skies have taken back all the plight of footed flight.

And, though, there is no longer leaps of faith in the bag of tricks.

There are still stabs at turning over new leaves.

Hence, the nature of things…have run off with the grief.

∴

No matter where I go, four paws…two feet.

And, to my mischievous needs…

my enlightened surprise, comic relief.

∴

The struggle daily to put one foot in front of the other.

To put one family in front of the other.

∴

Somewhere in my mind, as dusk and twilight, avoid the day.

I unleash my family blunders.

A step over the past…leaps of faith.

The reins?

I no longer control…of what and where love creates.

Therein, lies the value of family.

Just fetching sticks of bumbled humility.