a day earlier

Forever a hot day
And if not a cool day
Either a chilly day
Or a dank day
To make you want a crisp day
but always some creature in season
Making what it will of the long day

There are your days
And then there are days
Also the big days and days
you couldn’t care
there are so many it’s tough to tell
what morning makes what day

I can remember running
Round and around
Morning past day and some more
After school the lessons could wait
Everyday till I was told
childhood’s over now go home
and I obeyed

In the cover of darkness
I’ve come back to recover
Small treasures hidden
in nooks kept for me
by myself though some
secret places are long forgotten

such are the lost days
and now i befriend the night
different from the day
but not separate
and sometimes tired but
not slept we look for the day



and i thought to myself. jose saramago who. must be another latin american mystic fool. filling reams on mindbending drugs. good no doubt. but on mindbending drugs. however if there is such a thing as on my word, then let me say that ive been made to eat them and for all that they are worth nonetheless i say hail joselito (hopefully that translates little jose :+p). but small memories took me right back. its done like a childrens book. childrens crayon drawings on the cover and gaps between lines like in the books from our childhood. big font. and a wise old man talking about the good old days.