coddled by the comfort of my familiar bed i rejuvenate, casting off the incepid cloak of exhaustion, for a lighter wrap of slightly weary 5.15.17

this morning we gather our transitory sprawl, checking in corners and under beds, lest we leave and unwanted souvenir soon to join the traveling herd, a caravan to the north until we arrive at the sanctity of our island 5.14.17

i’m spent like the last quarter in the jukebox playing its final song of the evening to which i reluctantly agree to dance undone, with the weight of exhaustion which permeates me from the soles of my feet through roots of my hair 5.13.17

corralled we merge obediently following the path of the herd identities obfuscated in the cult of the mouse 5.12.17

change has announced its arrival together we embark as the doors slide open to the next adventure en route we journey past endless signs for other potential ventures until at last we settle in our temporal home 5.11.17