A teardrop fell
sparkling and spinning
on the ancient leg
of my old blue jeans.
I guess it was mine.

There was a sigh
erupting from way deep
that went out
on the angry wind.
Maybe it was mine.

There was that time
full of cruel meaning
and power when
decisions were made.
Could have been mine.

A starlight fell
on my ancient
blue genes.
Words erupted,
pretty sure it was mine.



Syd Weedon
6/27/2024