Additional

Flowers bloom,
bugs pop,
and trees floosh
at Day 30’s dawn.

Windows to open,
grass to mow,
words to write
as Day 30 ticks on.

Ready to clock in,
the writer must lock in,
with an eye on the sun
while under the gun,
oh why couldn’t April
have a Day 31?

120/365

A version of this poem first appeared on Bluesky. Whispered into the acoustic sensors of the sleeping dreaming android, it prompted the electric sheep to generate one more tomorrow…

© 2025 Greg R. Fishbone, generated by MidJourney as a derivative work of the poem, "Additional" by Greg R. Fishbone