Posted in Poetry, Prose

Washing the Day

Touching up
the sky a bit
the colors needing
deeper blues and yellows,
Washing the day
with the colors being
so bright in my
in the moment of now,
fading with the light
the setting sun,
takes this day
and replaces it
with another,
adjusting my memory
with new colors,
I’d never seen



Just an American lost in Denmark. The past few weeks being back in the good old USA. It is like Aliens have taken over my mind, changing it from what I knew to what I know. It might be the heat, or it might be the influence of hearing English 24 hours a day, but whatever the cause, it is only temporary while dealing with this time and space.

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