still struggling

this is humorless 

 ~

had i thrown a dart

at a map of the world

i could not have 

found a more random

and unlikely spot to live a life

   it might have been paris

   it might have been anywhere 

   it is here, which is nowhere

this is where discontent

winters, simmers all summer

perches, lands, roosts, settles

digs in, hibernates

   there is no escaping this place

   it is often pleasant 

   it is tempting to enjoy oneself 

   it is very easy to put one's feet up

   exhibit the symptoms of contentment

   it is delusional, but we say c'est la vie

the other world

the one beyond here

loses distinctiveness

becomes a vague concept 

often frightening

easily dismissed

   this is where compromise abides

   where touch

   is experienced through mittens

my friend would wither here

this is where i walk

to the mailbox

imagining i will find a ticket

to warmer climes

   it was less my choice

   than circumstance

   that brought me here

my palette

has been fifty shades of brown

by chance i have seen turquoise

a glimpse

   it doesn't matter 

   i've learned the art of compromise

   what would i do

   with warmth, color, sensation?

i know what i would not do

   i would not click my heels three times

   and wish to return to a sepia world 

   ~~~