all improvised

Going Up… steps fade from my eyes
I try. I know. If I don’t: “I Improvise”
As far as… I can turn to the program
To go down, to remember who I am

A few faults have rejected: a stepper
But one time I threw salt and pepper
Yet a backyard glass still transparent
To lift a gasp, to guard the lieutenant

The onshore wind’s aim was unsaid
Caught me, denying me from bread
So, came the time for me to feel bad
But I’ll be fine, if those flavors I add

© Ricardo Sexton