Calliope

Excuse me, do you have time to read my paltry words?
Just my daily entry parsing brain whey from brain curds?

Do you know a term for sticky, misty fogs of doom?
I think that I have one right here…how about a “brume”?

Like sorting pills to days of weeks; I index my mind.
Even then, days do fly places I’d not thought to find.

A few months ahead, sometimes, I will jot down a phrase.
It will sit ungerminated many moonlit days.

Yet, rain & sun always fall enough to feed a root.
Rare are days that pass by, where my muse gives me the boot.