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poetry by j matthew waters

minimalistic thoughts of yesteryear


one by one they left this place
a metaphorical mess
and I was left all alone
to my many devices
certain I could figure out a way
to clean things up

the morning light arrives
hours after I first stirred
shuffling my feet
to the rhythm of a fancy beat
repeating a little ditty
I recall singing in my dream

windows are everywhere
and in the dark I find each one
lifting the storms
and bringing in fresh air
whether it be cool or warm
or whispering silence

sitting at the kitchen counter
I am taken to places
I’ve not yet seen
a ripened orange in my hand
magically unpeeling itself
before my very own eyes


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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2 thoughts on “minimalistic thoughts of yesteryear

  1. The orange unpeeling itself is such a surreal ending.

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