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.


Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes to encourage readers to explore the depths of their inner ocean, an unexplored self, because it's fun once you get through the emotional part... “The world around us is our vehicle, what you'll read is how I digest it.” -Budd

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