When daylight ebbs, my thoughts collect
with no clear thread that I detect
they try to show me what's correct
(but I lay low, and don't suspect).
I wouldn't talk when I was small,
But thoughts stormed through me, like a squall
and chased my parents down the hall.
(I wonder if they heard at all).
And now, I still don't like to speak.
my questions few, answers oblique
contribute to my strange mystique
(a very lonely, strange technique).
(Written about 5 minutes ago in a sleepy stupor:))