Trust
4/18/2022
Trust 4/18/2022, Con/Jur/d Standing outside next to a weather damaged circular picnic table centered by round ashtray beneath an awning already collapsing before the weight of the failed re - election banner was tacked on the wormy wood where I awkwardly shuffle, maskless trying to finish cigarette from a pack bought out of nostalgia over a week before and failing as I had with the others to take more than a puff, since apparently I don’t enjoy smoking anymore I do still enjoy stepping out to birdsong and the imperceptible sounds of budding blooms, the green- ifcation accompanied by a soft resurrecting rain and so when the older working farmer, who most likely was younger than I approaches to pass through the screen door of this forgotten hotel, in this way-to town, on his way to get his annual Good Friday fish fry which happens today to be fresh bullhead and he waves his baseball cap in my derelict direction saying “Spring is in the air” and not being used to speaking, I say “I don’t have, trust” He laughs the eaves creak “Son, neither do I neither do I”
Much Love,
Con/Jur/d, 4/18/2022
I really like the flow of this.