Exhaustion – used up, tired out, drained of strength, emptied of vitality
I have that kind of tired
that hangs like weights
on my face, makes words
slur from my lips,
muddies my mind in
worries, so I close my eyes,
imagine I’m painting
daisies, or touring a library,
or planning a garden,
until, finally, heavy-lidded,
as the world slips away,
I float past watercolors,
books, butterflies, roses,
out an open window,
through tree tops
into the cloudy,
dreamy beyond
of sweet, sweet
sleep.
Unless otherwise indicated, all writings and images are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.
—C.L. Fisher, July 2021
Poetic Meanderings 