Sharing a poem I like.

Alone

Alone is delicious

There is no one to see.

I can eat these low clouds

and the body of wind

that’s turning them into rolling

tumbleweed, eat with my hands,

get crumbs over everything.

crumbs of clouds on my nose, in

my fingernails, clouds smeared

all over my shirt and chin.

I can lick the clouds off my fingers

and no one can see or care if

I have as much dresser as I want.

I just reach into those blue

holes that I’ve left and pull out

whole fistfuls of sky, of infinity.

It’s tasteless and so hard

I can chew it for hours.

By: Jonathan Holden