Heres The Turning Poem by Steven Smedley

I sit
The leaves dance around my feet
The wind the great conductor
I untie then tie my shoe again
I try to get a lyric from it
Suddenly the conductor puts to rest
What I was trying to say again and again and again and.
Left to think of the wet streets at night
How brightly they to were lit
As a stray passes, I say to myself,
‘Where are you going? ’
That’s a blank verse.
I start to walk, I can do so naked, the crimes
Are at a low.
I want to be a squatter of a grocery store alley
Then in my head write an ode to my lucid dream