into the night..
and descends into the morning..
nah, doesn't sound right..

the night descends into the evening..
and rises into the morning..
doesn't sound right either..
hmmn 🤔..

aw, chuck it..

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then I can't write straight..

-

I sense the restless nature of my pack..
After all, who doesn't appreciate..
A night of baying..

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If you can hold..
Something so pretty..
So delicately..
Old arthritic me..
I'm all thumbs..

-

Forget about the book..
It's the coffee that's interesting..
Do you have a tot of the old monk handy?..

-

It never ends well..

-

you are consigned..
to the dog bed..

-

I could never understand..
why you wanted..
these things..
to me you're pretty..
especially without those..

-

sometimes the cup overfloweth..
and then sometimes..
it's empty..

with what?..
love, of course..

-

and whenever I see our bench..
it's not about that you have gone..
it's about the times we shared..
I'll be joining you soon..
we'll talk about it, eh?..

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