The ceiling drips a Hawaiian waterfall
as I sail this well-worn sofa and drift
another orange day lit by TV glare or actual sun.
My windows are open and breathing in the sound
of two dogs fighting for just as many hours; this
happens as a train floats by then grinds the rail.
I saw a boy on a skateboard Tuesday afternoon
and I am convinced he was leaving for a town
where people ride skateboards midday.
I reset my pedometer before I go to sleep
in case I have adventures in my dreams
or I walk through my own blackout in pyjamas.
How much mileage will I get from these words?
K Weber has 10 self-published, online books of poetry. K writes independently and collaboratively, having created poems from words donated by more than 300 people since 2018. Much of K's work (free in PDF/some have audio!) and her publishing credits are at kweberandherwords.com