Summer Hopefully

I've forgotten how to write with

vigor or an aesthetic sense of

purpose. I'm not proud of this

departure. I once had a sliver

of awe to motivate my shortcomings.

Now I'm urging inspiration onward,

without the necessary tools. It's

almost June, and the weather

isn't improving. Spring is usually

a catalyst, but the drought of words

lingers. Summer hopefully will usher

in a new awakening. If not this notebook

is useless.