psalm

tired
tired
too tired for wonder

lay me down
in soft, warm dust
beside a lake
in which stones float
and the forest
stands quiet and gray

tired
too tired to wander

let me be
on my own couch
where the door
locks out the world
where I live
wanting nothing
no fear, no fear

tired
too tired

goodness will come

—————–

Addendum: Life is more like the Lanterne Rouge than Lance Armstrong: live weak.

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