surrounded by imaginary walls,my outside fortress is complete;
the roof above my head shelters
away the rain, snow, and sun
but allow the winds underneath;
the floor holds all the mental chairs
I need, jumping from one to another
as if playing "leap frog" with myself;
interwoven into the air are all the
memories, good or bad, that can
be experienced inexpensively;
threads of delight are the clothes
worn outside when I drift in and
out of subconscousness again;
it is truly nothing to behold but
it is all mine when I come to visit
myself mentally each morning.
2Nov17
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