the sadness still drips.
the greys remain grey
the blues

the orange
blossoms
are still
dying.
still permanent.
the sadness still drips.

the life in me tested

the sadness of an event
is too big
to be
with all the time the sadness
can’t be
avoided.

it still drips
through the “how ya doin’s”
throughout sleep
in between the places
you were

slip
drip
the sadness goes on.

-jan 4, 2006