Wandering

My mind has wandered
off into the woods again,
softly tinkering away,
gears rotating loose,
musings whispered to
the face of a clock
which I do not read,
but the clouds are
dreary with just a small
patch of sun peeking
through, and I wonder
how I climbed out
of the well, yet again,
and how much has
changed from when
life last dropped me off.

– B.

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