Parts That Are Spare

By: David Pike

Standing around,
waiting for something
to happen,
used to be
as exciting as it would get
during adolescent years,
small town style.

All the while
life went on
as it always did,
with little to report,
and days and weeks
would drift
into something or other,
or nought.

But it’s all change now,
at least for me,
and I welcome
more of the same
silence and certainty,
with room to scribble
meaningful thoughts
or drivel,
without accountability
or clowning around.

It’s all sound,

Categories: Poetry

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