Vegetation Season

by Nick Keaty

Partly charm of old
partly convinced by
some pattern of
misted labor
vivid shadows
vivid vegetation
we feel ourselves
sinking into the specificity
and the habit
rummaging for anything
when my eyes refuse to close at night
after reasonable time tossing i slip on
a pair of sweats
and i get in my car
i don’t know where i am going
usually i just buckle up
and drive by this time of night
i can’t think of a song to fit my mood
but i find rehearsing my own poetry
to an empty vehicle is just the kind
of soothing i need when i feel convinced
my creative self has laid down
i somehow find myself
at the late-night diner
i claim my seat at the far right booth
the waitress greets me with my hot chocolate
two eggs cracked over-easy on hashbrowns
i reach for my pencil
and, allowing myself,
like the egg
to crack open over the page and run
into some pattern
rummaging for anything
sinking into the specificity
partly charm of old
partly convinced by
misted labor
vivid shallows
vivid vegetation

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