Too many more days to be wished away

with a casual disregard tonight

for me to find comfort in their going.

Too much of a coward to let things go,

I tuck all my worries in my pockets

tightly folded like origami crows.

There are no portents hiding in the stars,

no mysteries to be defined in blood,

no plodding footsteps moving down the hall.

It would be easier to go along,

to do what is expected at my age,

but I do not know what that even means.

I do not know what to do any more;

so, I turn off the light and go to bed.

January 26, 2022)