Landay

A cloud just drifted over the moon,
and you were just here- now you're gone too soon.

Note to Self

Nothing will happen
till you cease to rest against
the bulwark of crumbling glory.

Nothing will happen
when you look above,
for a call from the muse
you'd long left behind,
in rusty abandon.

Nothing will happen
when you wipe the dust off
dead ideas and tired metaphors.

Nothing will happen
till you peer clear-eyed
into the fog of the future that awaits you.

In short, nothing will happen
till you put pen to paper.