UNTITLED

Cold raindrops
Splash endlessly on his newly shaven head
As he walks

Wearing his nylon jacket for the first time this year

The rain is cold
It's refreshing

The first worm of spring
Squirms and crawls on the sidewalk
Waiting unaware for the first robin
To come along and snatch his first meal

The wind whips his hood against his face
It's cold
It's liberating

His boots
Their tread long since worn away
Slip on the wet grass
Lying flat under the weight of the snow that has just melted
Grass weary not to stand up too soon
Only to be flattened again

The solemn song
The lonesome song
Plays in his head

But he feels not sorrow nor loneliness

Alone but not lonely

At peace
With something not yet understood
At ease
With things beyond his control

Finding truth in the ambiguity
Finding a truth of his own

An individualized experience
Individual eyes experience differently

Honest to all but themselves

UNTITLED

Calm rushes in
Fills every crevice
Every pore
It pours in
Trickles down the throat

It overcomes me
It overpowers me

So this is beauty
The ivory is struck with precision
The horse hair bow glides over the strings
Coming together
Falling apart
Mournfully
Beautifully

UNTITLED

Hand in hand we stood
With the Gods of the Sun
We shared a moment
                  Of serenity

Lifted skyward
              In the palm of the tree
Thrusting towards the sun

Head back
Mouth open
          Drinking the Sun
                          Pouring it down

Our thirsty throats
                   Quenched
                           Satisfied

This is a moment
This is real

This
    Is
      Real

UNTITLED

Killing time
Until something happens
Until someone happens to catch sight
Of what we're waiting for
        What we've been waiting for our whole lives
As long as we can remember

Longing for what we remember
     For the past
        What once was
            What is no more

No more

    Please

We can't keep killing time
We can't keep killing ourselves
Waiting for something
                   Or someone

To happen
It won't happen
     It can't happen
         Not like this

UNTITLED

A mix of sun and clouds
High of minus two
Low of minus 5

Tuesday evening it snowed
For about fifteen minutes
The funny thing is
It was sunny the whole time
It's sunny now
Though the sun is going down for the night

So it can come up somewhere else
Somewhere that needs the light
                             The warmth