Sunday Morning Pot Thoughts 1

Lost track of time at the old place
Electricity fires up a TV
Shorter, wider, darker, King
A big ol’ hat, these strings will sing

Fight around a dial, a calendar year
What’s stopping you is fear my dear
Stones don’t rock, they stream
What’s real
and what’s an afternoon and night dream?
What is evening?

These toes tap around my mind
As I awake, the clouds unwind
A sip of coffee for my soul
To help me pay the daily toll