Senior Housing - NaPoWriMo # 5

Senior Housing


Time is bored
with half of the almanac
—it rains, it always rains—
a remnant of sanity stored
in the second to last suburb
where I do my jogging.
The other half of the days
in the almanac are drowsy
sleepy days where solemn statues
come down from their pedestals
to play canasta.


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