Dry Day

It is a sullen noon

something in the air 

refuses to be trapped

rebelling

it erupts in furious writing

and frowns 

and a furrowed forehead

I am adding a crow's feet 

every year

time is a concept they say

but I never lose count this way

I have dreamed

and let them soar

But in this dreamodrome

there are more accidents 

than successful take offs

and many, mid way

just flop down with engine failure

or lack of fuel

or some kind of passenger protest

I cannot find my bellows

to flare up these fires

today some restlessness

is snuffing everything 

I once called my spirit