It happened again —
a little bit of flotsam,
perhaps the start of a poem
or a little prose poem
or just a thought
that struck my fancy
and I even
had my journal and pen
sitting
next to my bed.
All I had to do
was turn on the light,
jot it down,
and go back to trying
to sleep.
Instead,
I lay in the dark
repeating the flotsam
to myself,
fell asleep,
and woke up without it.
ain’t that more often the case….and nice write/read…and why you don’t have a bevy of followers here is beyond my comprehension…
regards