I'm here
and I want to write.
To put to words
the endless thoughts
swirling around
and through me
as darkness falls.
But my favorite ritual
of rearranging letters
and sounds to suit
the moment
is failing me.
It's no use,
the usual sorting
of syllables that so often
brings me back
to the here and now.
My compass points North tonight.
The needle unwavering.
So be it.
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