By SNOR
I sort the laundry and try to organize the legal arguments in my mind. I overload the washer with clothes so that the mountain appears lower and more attainable.
Climbing to the highest peak, I try to catch that stray purple sock before it pollutes the white clothes.
My mind swims and swirls in the water’s swirling cycle. The legal brief left undone.
My thoughts scattered in the wind with the cherry blossom petals. Without the flowers, the tree looks barren.
I hide the monster’s rage behind a mask of makeup.
If I just could find the matching sock, would life make sense? Or . . .
Would I drown anyway in dirty clothes and case law?
SNOR is a dreamer and world watcher who has more questions than answers.
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