Brought from Thought

Benjamin Jenkins, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Like kaleidoscope irises;

A line of Dexter washers

Spin on the wall.

Washing over my thoughts

Tumbling there along with my socks

My mind is a blank.

Sometimes that tickles the write side of my brain

Sometimes it pricks it.

She tumbles through my head

Two weeks seems like a century.

Family tumbles through my head

An excursion feels like a pilgrimage.

I need to work less for monetary coin

And write more poetic rhyme.

I dream of writing everyday

But I already do.

Someone with an arm-bundle

Asks me to grab the door.

I hear them through my headphones.

“S’okay” I say.

Placing down my pen,

Grabbing for the latch.

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