May, this year, has felt like November,
only with more light.
It’s like living in a new place, unsettled,
strangers raging against
stuck on a theme
of misery bringing damp.
Walking home against the wind
it was all over the place. Leaves and dust
in my mouth.
© 2021 Copyright Rick Frame
I woke this morning hoping to write something lighter and more fun but I could not feel it when I remembered yesterday, walking in the wind.