A poem from my old life

I got strung out

Like laundry whipped and tangled

By a strong wind

I got wrung out

twisted and worn

Like clothes in an old washer

I was wiped out

By a stinking kitchen cloth

Smelling like mold

I wanted to mellow out

Like butter on a counter

I needed to rest

Like a roast right out of the oven

I sat and steeped, like a good cup of tea

My pen dunking into fresh thoughts

Warm water and sugar make tiny eggs of yeast come to life.

Just as words and poetry make my spirits rise.