I’m needing a place to wait out the clock.
Occupied silences between tick’s tock.
Music, words & art do busy these hands.
A tiny garden; the whole of my lands.
Dedicated areas for each task.
Write & create twixt menial asks.
A bit more room, if life chooses to grow.
How & When?…I am not yet in the know.
Turbulent times make for wanton messes.
I’ve not known a home…only addresses
Alone, aloof & oft misread as rude.
My happy life is busy solitude.

