Seek n Hide

​In my actual space I, 

carrying a flashlight, virtually,

stumble in darkness,

feel the edge of a work desk

for direction,

cut my hand on its

chiseled existence,

and call it poetry and justice.

It must be the apocalypse,

for it remains hidden,

the desk,

its writing instruments,

and its intent...

But, in time, maybe tomorrow,

when it starts to rain,

I may author the Bible.

I seek a virtue amongst

the long shadows on my desk, 

the sarcastic ink bottle

I hardly use,

and within the pile of

forgotten music notes,

I search for songs and sin

to find light, write the Psalms.

-- Leslie