mind.garage.yard

A mind, once lean, now fattened
on the idlest of thoughts and ways
A garage, unswept, with no cars to keep
A yard, unkempt, with no child at play.

Someone should be whispering,
(more like a hissing screech)
“You bloody fool of fools,
growing old, going nowhere,
and you’re going there alone”

The sky clouds–you enter the house
shut the windows and pretend to read.
The tea is old, and bitter cold
but you drink it anyway.

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