Thursday, January 2, 2020

Who else almost writes 2019?

Is it too early?

We can still mess up and get away with it…?

I think I have a crush on the weather lady.

How would I know it’s real?

I have a hard time at the grocery store.

But I must go.

I’m editing a book.

Started back on my birthday in 2018.

I was due on Christmas Day of 1986.

I ran through the new year.

Running into New Year’s Day.

There I went to see him grow.

It was dark and cold, but I was running to gold.

Like a jungle and the path unfolds.

My safety lights shine, flash, and glow.

Freedom runner and to the tunes I blow.

Singing and breathing.

Wild child of the Newbirth repeating.

Words everlasting to practice a spoken thing.

One to echo beautiful wordings,

…for those who create endless endings.

-Budd

Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes because no one can 'read' him. And it's a great way to hide public thoughts...

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