Collecting Dust

 

I have a collection of single lines

that will never become poems.

 

Thoughts and moments

that I can’t pull anything from.

 

Like waking from a dream

with nothing more than a feeling

that can’t be put into words,

but stays with you throughout the day.

 

Draped over my shoulders

until I discard it

over the back

of an old chair

waiting to be put away.