LIfe as poetry
Sometime there is just no time off; and sometimes that racket in one's brain must be listened to. Watching rats scurrying, at the end of this particular poem, sounds like relaxation.
Enjoyed this... I have a racket in my brain sometimes, too.
Another Diane mysterious poem!
I enjoyed reading the unique images you have in this. And there is something just so starkly frank about sitting there watching the rats! Excellent.
So well written....under the surface