Typing words on an empty file
The words seem like jars
Pouring out random fragments
Of thoughts
That clatter onto the page
Not turning into coherent lines
They lack wisdom
Or philosophy 
It is nearly time to go to bed.
I feel the deadline closing in
A narrowing tunnel
Pinching out the light
It’s time to draw the curtains
And power down
Lock the doors
And start fresh tomorrow


©April 6, 2025
Diane E. Dockum