when my creative juices run dry,
I stand in a corner of my room,
dig deep into my stash
and play in color.
I have gotten through the purples, reds and blacks,
It seems appropriate that I am Ironing the Blues today.
smoothing , re-folding, stacking, organizing.
watching the crows hunt for critters in the lawn thatch.
It seems that sort of a day.
Where is my Mojo?
I've lost it somehow,
did you set it down, somewhere and walk away,
only to have someone clean it?
I just had it a second ago.
is it on my head the, way father forgets his glasses?
can you find it, the same way you find your lost keys?
were did it go!
under the papers on your desk?
a coat pocket in the hall closet,
I know it's here someplace.
did it fall out when you went to get the mail?
under the bed, in the couch cushions?
I just had it!
the jeans I wore yesterday?
the wash machine?
a coat pocket, couch cushions.
no I checked there.
it can't have disappeared!
in the car, under the seat,
behind the bureau?
why can't I find it?
look in the fridge, just in case, the freezer too.
It's always in the last place you look