Dripping taps and
Dripping honey
Have not a lot in common
But that they both are memories
Of you

The tap
Is like your incessant presence
Unignorable
Persistent
And noticeable if ever absent

The honey
Is like your person-feel
You are sweet
But sticky
And you go well with tea.

Musings 1

A small point of light
Shines in the corner of the room.
                                                  The rest of the room is dark.
                              The light is
                                             Yellow
                                           Sharp
                                         Indistinct
                                                  Because I'm not wearing my glasses

It doesn't light up anything else in the room.
It's a solitary light,
A light that is not
Prone to sharing

And I wonder
                                                  Does light
                                                  Go to kindergarten?

My head 2

My Skull
Contains treasure
In the form of squishy bundles of neurons
In and of themselves
They are nothing
But like all of us
On this Earth
Nothing is ever
In and of themselves

My Head

Mush
In my head
And beyond
Pushing out
Expanding
But having to deal
With a constricting environment
My skull