Days like today
remind me of Scotland.
I've never been-
well, physicall I've not,
but my mind has traveled
through space and time-
lost in new words
mutual past-time.
Today, in the states,
there are no
"Clouds on a Wednesday"
just overcast, fogged shades of grey,
waves upon the rocky shore,
coffee 'gone cold before
you get a good taste.
The days poetry was made for.
Cold.
Like the parts of my heart
that left a friend alone.
Today reminds me of Scotlad,
and like another one of our hand written notes
I keep in that Paris designed tote
here I write
to say "Hello".
"Unilaterally, Literally, Literary Friends."