Fear not your own voice. Forget the past missteps.
You were younger then, only on the way to becoming you.
Almost hot coffee, an amber dog, a blue ballpoint, a drugstore notebook, this chilly porch.
Saturday morning, early, with rain.
You must recognize your own value before anyone else can.
And the bar pops onto on my shoulders.
If only my troubles could be lifted that easily.
But the sky, oh the sky is never as strong as it is beautiful.