the ribbons of a tired out Sun
and one more day to die
has just begun.
One more night has flown away and I see only this,
what follows are the pits and hollows that carve their way and slice through minutes of the day
and time will chew us,
cough and spew us out.
Another day begins but the dancing feet of hands that meet the hour line are designed to make us fret away.

A worn out,torn out,busted and it’s borne out by what I see
it’s just another day to me.

copyright © John Smallshaw all rights reserved