Missing

Words don’t come some days, or at least any I can match with the images that flit through my mind, images not standing still long enough to be photographed. The day will come soon enough when it does not happen at all, or if words still come, I won’t care.

I feel older than dirt today. Of course, I am old. I merely feel it today. The world of impossibility crowds out the world of possibility. Words simply won’t come to me no matter how I hard I try.

About the only thing to do is read some good words others have written. If reading won’t satisfy, do the mundane and ordinary just to numb the sting of missing the words that won’t come regardless of how much they are bidden.