A Crazy Morning

Strangers And Poetry

A crazy morning,

Crazy in the sense

That some things

Make no sense,

Calm after the

Tail end of Ana,

Nerve racking watching

A thirteen year old

Testing her wings,

Helpless speaking with

A terminally ill friend

Grasping at straws and things,

Not sure if he will

Make Christmas,

Wondering out loud

If hash oil could be

His magic potion,

And I, a hippy sort

With no knowledge of drugs

Except for that tune,

Love Potion Number Nine.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Dockside”www.StrangersAndPoetry.com

9:48 AM October 29, 2014

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