High Fever
If this is meant to calm me down
then why am I
still seeing red
(or are those roses)?
1,000 memories rise with the sun.
None of them are you.
All of them are you.
None of them are me.
All of them are us.
None of them are us.
Some of them are us.
It’s a perfect day for a walk in the rain.
I’m always happy,
but it does help when the world is agreeable.
It’s not always best for life to be easy.
Sometimes the struggle is like a French kiss from God –
leaves you feeling so sexy in the end.
“Comes the Budding” is out this week on the Sunday Poetry Page at Dissident Voice.
I read the piece recently at the Visions of Verse event in Jasper, Georgia. A video is available on The Southern Collective Experience YouTube channel.
17Numa 