today's morning justwrite

Kind of pathetic like puppy dog eyes chasing cats with fiddles across the field and over the moon to grandmother's house where we bring baskets of muffins with blueberry stains, blue at the corner of her mouth, the round of her eye named after a flower but I can never remember which one, tossing handfuls of mismatched seeds onto the sidewalk, wondering where the roots will take root and avoiding the cracks because there were morbid nursery rhymes in my childhood and I'm still waiting for the dish to bring my spoon back home again so I can eat soup again and cereal again and again at ten minutes until tomorrow because I can't sleep when the screens in my head are playing static louder than my heartbeat and the stars have switched themselves to wind power to save energy. You need more than a breeze to power a star, so the windows are shaking, wondering why they didn't pick another job like a glass coffee table with no worries but hot chocolate mugs with no coasters. I place my paper in a music box because I'm a dreamer and hope that the words will write themselves because I want to memorize every song because I need something to do in the shower besides think of the springtime bulbs still frozen in the ground, sending cold breaths upward so maybe somebody can shout it out and we'll all buy chainsaws to cut blocks of ice and chisels to carve them into swans or angels or an octopus eating a sandwich and then we'll buy mallets because what good is a chisel without a mallet, a dish without a spoon, a cow without her moon, a justwrite without a rhyme, or me without you.