January 27, 2013


Gravity is finally
slowing me down,
working me over
while I sleep,
pulling me deeper
into the bed
I once called my own.
Each week it's harder
to get back on my feet,
forage for food,
make both ends meet.
A hungry earth
waits for me outside,
I will slide into her
all in good time,
noted in passing
by a wisp of a moon; 
she's seen many old lovers
go by this way,
many more die off 
too soon.