It seems like she needs some space
Rapid movements on stiff shoulders
Signal frustration or maybe anger
I understand
Sometimes I need space too
So I hang back and give her room
A peace offering
A gift of understanding
But my misophony efforts land hard
She is confused by my avoidance
Her splendid morning shadowed
Because I seem distant
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Not Meagre, Latent Boughs Alone“)
Many a great and inspiring bosses have I had
Idiosyncratic and wonderful and overworked
They have coached and advised and nudged
Fatigue and worry clinging to their ankles
While I am carried on their bending backs
Now I sit in a similar uncertain seat
Dealing in a currency of validation
Seeking wins and losses and stayings and goings
Keeping all our legs pumping in a direction
Any direction as long as it’s forward
-T. Weeks
(A response to “You Lingering Sparse Leaves of Me“)
In the glass shade
Where questions lie still
After the long march
In that spot I’ll plant it
The last of all question marks
Set over it’s fallen comrades
To ponder forever their passing
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Twilight”)
Life Immense 