Sometimes I am less

Sometimes I am less

Sometimes more

It is hard to keep track

When the rains fall

The trail is overgrown

The wind blows

With little regulation

Without guidance

I am a footprint

I go before and after

I am an ocean

Seething with anger

Calm as a mill pond

Lost in the doldrums

A wil-o-the-wisp

Barely heard

Dull as ditchwater

Sharp as a knife

Cut from the cloth

Of my father

I sing for my supper

Starved of affection

A poor man

A guttersnipe

A nose pressed against the glass

An outcast

A motherless child

A captain of a ship

Forging ahead

Falling behind

I am a fox in the box

A descendant of heroes

Who were as fallible

As me

I am restless

A wrecker

A broken promise

A dream maker

A helpmate

A writer of songs

A bird in the hand

A poet of sorts

Ill-suited to life

With nothing to show

For my years

On this earth

But it is all that I am

All I am worth

Sometimes less

Sometimes more.

Tuesday, the 19th of August.

Hold to the fire

The heat of it

Nourish the flame

Gather the ashes

Left from burning

Carry them to the high ground

Loose them to the wind

They will be scattered

Far and wide

A little piece of me

Will touch a little piece of you

Out there,

In the thick of it

Incandescent