Poem: Headless


It could be allergies
or the change of seasons
inside my head.
Age. Wear and tear.
Spiritual exhaustion.
Or just a bad night’s sleep.
Something is going on
and somehow I am headless,
running on muscle memory and good habits,
hoping to bridge the gap
until it returns

About this poem

Allergies are kicking my butt today.

I can’t remember what museum I took this picture in.


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