& the Time is. . .

 
No more mush
no gush
or blush.
Only oatmeal mornings
flooded with an
afternoon of wine.

I hear the morning birds;
I wish they were singing;
they are calling or cackling;
often it’s not easy to discern.
Some songs really screw with my heart
and make my face wet,

however, I am well…….
I’ve emerged from the dark wet depths
to see and Breathe and BE.
Time to move
and move on to the task at hand.

Time to HEAL.