How does a mind work?

My mind

scutters like autumn leaves

looking for words

under the boulders

separating hallucinations

from dry twigs

misty trees from spider webs

lonely words inside a secluded soul

flowing voicelessly in the river

of memory.

 

How can I spin

the words into silk?

How can my imagination

seed the clouds

rain spilling in torrents

washing over the obelisks and memorials

first try and second chances

and try all over again?

 

note: Mrs. Abstract and I are driving through the rain on the way to Oregon.

I’m currently reading Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles.