in the midst of new beginnings

the grey room

its been awhile.

my muse and i —
we disagreed on
the sum of it all
time, place, rhyme
reason, meter,
pitch. everything

even this.

but we shook hands
for the sake of tradition
and made old promises
to do better
on the eve
of the facade of
a new beginning,
penned this contract in
some semblance of a poem
to jump start something
festering, laid dormant.
in the midst of the feeling
carried on by
the facade of
our new beginnings.

happy new year.

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