Andi Leigh Writes

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We Gladly Didn't

on November 17, 2024

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There is something

About Sundays.

Mornings last longer—

Giving us space to finish

Tasks before the sun

Reaches the sky's center.

We didn't have much

To do—so we gladly didn't.

busy like blue lavender

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Checker Piece

There is a checker piece Lost on a chessboard, Playing a game it'll Never properly win, But it refuses to concede With confidence That it'll remain there Amongst the kings that Pertain to the goings-on Of the board.

Start Graying

There is a split in the ocean. There is a bee in my chest. I wonder when I'll start graying Since I always seem so stressed. There is a meal left out cold. There are no answers to this test. I constantly worry about the future, Wondering what will be next. There is a secret amongst them. There are too many oppressed. I don't think we'll be able to fix it. We all just seem to crave rest.

Bored of Silence

What to do when there’s no sound. Not a drop of music in the air. Crystal clear void, stuffed in my ears. Restless worries don’t make good company. Yearning for a pin to drop, Causing an uproar in vacant space. Without even the hum from spinning blades, I tap my fingertips on marble to pass the time.

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