Remembrance.
As it is, not
as we wish it to be.
You have days
to think back on,
and you do…
05/25/2023 j.g.l.
always with the questions
Is what you do enough?
For who?
For you?
Self-doubt?
Self-love?
Self-centered?
Is it selfish to think mainly
of what I need to do for me,
myself, and I?
Why?
When will I find resolve to
my never-ending queries?
Will it be enough?
Do you still doubt?
Do you struggle with answers,
as much as the questions?
Can you decide?
Are you trying?
Is that enough?
05/23/2023 j.g.l.
cloud songs
Library of memories;
pages and paragraphs full of history
and biography, essay or adventure.
Which story should I tell?
Is it one you would well know or
a tale I still have no ending for?
05/16/2023 j.g.l.
I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
Mondays are just young Fridays
Posted on December 27, 2022 by j.g.lewis
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I thought Monday
was Sunday, yesterday.
Today is Tuesday
all day, but
it feels like a Monday;
out of order, out of sequence,
running out of time.
Today. Tuesday.
It takes a calendar
to remind
what day it is, and week,
and the date;
so few remain
on the page.
Late in the year, you see
it is almost 2023.
12/27/2022 j.g.l.
