Red

You need a new post. That's what they've been telling me.

So. Here goes.

My new notebook is ruled and mostly empty. My new book has too many pages left to read. Both have red covers. My shirt is red. It's a red day.

I've cleaned/purged my kitchen. But not the cluttered closet and certainly not the ridiculous bedroom closet, with its epic poems of sorted piles. (The Ancient Mariner to the Goodwill, Howl to the dry cleaner etc.)

The days are sunny and the nights are dark. The quiet is deafening and the noise is barely noticeable. January became February and this is where I have been left.

Inscrutable, unreadable, undeniable.