Let’s Keep Moving On

It was down and out gritty, and lonesome was style.

Let’s Keep Moving On

Time was written in my palm
that there was never a plan.
It was a fortune of words
with nothing to understand. 
There were days like a suntan,
demons in the nights.
this porch-lit conversations
while scratching our bites

I long for summer days
sitting by the lake,
a water painted with sky,
when dragonflies mate.
I don't feel good …