Ginger

cooking high in the kitchen
all day been laying in a hammock 
getting grounded in the wind
hawk caught my gaze slow mo
tion potion like the sound of the voice in
my headphones can't stop writing solo 
pondering the ordinary on a new wave
filter filtered light paints a picture I haven't 
seen before smells like ginger dehydrating 
for tea at a later date but when
will that be a 
date I mean I forgot to take out
the meat from the freezer like I 
always do but the cacophony in my ears
sounds like fridge poetry will soothe rumpled
time to breathe open 
windows and no allergies my slice of 
heaven the sun bathes the building across
the street in a golden hue such overlooked 
perfection for just 
cooking high in the kitchen