Two days off

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“Eastward I stand, for mercies I ask,”
I could walk away, from all of it.
Here now on this any morning Monday.
Sun hot and high, car horns litter brake dust,
Traffic sludging down blacktopped
Boulevards. I could be, too.
Loud ambulances loom,
Blaring toward some event.
But they are
Not here for me,
yet.

© SXT 2023

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Stephen XT

I write stuff when something begs to me to write. The goal is to write ten-thousand things before I die. I tend to be morbid, reflective and personal.