Between the dreams at night, and the books I read

between the remembered movies, and the songs that I recall

between the conversations I have, and those I overhear

between the places I’ve visited and the places where I want to go


Between the thoughts about the world, and hopes and despair

between the people I watch and the events I see

between the need to think and the impulse to write

between the steps on my walk and the cups of coffee


Ideas come between the seconds

and the only relief is to write like crazy

at least one more time.


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