Ghosted

I wondered what it would be like to write again

to sit down with

if not confidence then its kin

and write about the things I used to write about

whatever they were.

I wondered what it would be like to write again

and decided it wasn’t worth the effort to try.

I wondered what it was I used to write about

the ideas that appeared

if not by magic then by luck

in the early morning sunlight on my walk

from here to there.

I wondered what it was I used to write about

and decided it wasn’t worth the effort to go back and see.

I wondered what it would be like to write again,

and I wondered what it was I used to write about,

and I sat down with neither confidence nor its kin

and this is what happened.

It wasn’t worth the effort.