mourning coffee—much too dark,
poor it out and do without,
wood long for all lost, yet doubt
holes it still within my heart.
spellcheck, wellcheck, squiggly lines
remove all colors inside,
raging flood through deep divide
‘tween ordered, disordered minds.
let our pens remove all bonds.
let the creeks still dry be filled,
let ink flow and know no will
to make it run true as song.
Eric M. Vogt, Copyright 2013