I am the silverness

This is a kind of ode to the rare moments where you just forget, and dance...

I will give up my place to that gentle word that takes me into myself, to fight all the monsters, put there by the machine.

I am the forgotten dragon.

I am the slide into hell.

I am the minstrel who plays for pennies.

I am the leaf burnt in the sun.

I am the moon that burns bright in all the darkness.

I am the hand that feeds you.

I am this that never grows old in the heart of you.

I am the silverness that keeps turning…

Oh…

It is that time again to pass into the delicious. So I will not bore you with any of the doom, down below, as I fly here…

A bottle of sweet wine winged its way back to me from somewhere and ended up in the kitchen

And as it looked at me down through the days

I looked back at it

And wondered

What it would be like uncorked

Anyway, to cut a long story short, it’s so hard to find where I look in my seeing these days for the things I am thinking about: fetta cheese, olives, and onions bare on a plate, and cold, cold as a long lonely night with ===

Ah…

I must be thinking about what’s in the fridge…

Shaking my head, I walked into the living room where I was slaking my thirst with something a moment ago and cried out: why am I bleeding this way?

No answer came.

So I put some jazz on the radio

And danced

Yes, I danced

Until my feet were liquid

Oh, liquid feet I said

Oh...

Image from Pixabay