and in that light he wept.

[just_below]

a brief respite
an eye in the storm
a large rock to sit on

though he still sees the clouds overhead
knows that this is not the end
the storm is not yet weathered
and yet he sits, lights a cigarette
closes his eyes, inhales deeply
takes in all he can

a moment of sharp clarity
beneath the dull ache of grey
struggles to come forth
struggles to emerge
[he's seen this all before]
in a daydream that passed him by
left him on the roadside
his hesitation still clinging to his coat-sleeves

when you procrastinate you choose last

and the weavings of his choices
still echo in his [un]sorrow
his failed attempt at self-pity rings true
a momentary gust of wind catches him off guard
as he scrambles to bundle around himself
brings his scarf to life

it dances with him in that evening air
calls him onward, playful to the last
sings to him a long-lost song
speaks to him of riddles of truth

[and the Truth of Riddles]
and everything and nothing in between
the clouds are darkening, again
he lifts himself off of the rock
extinguishes his cancer
pauses, and then sits again

he will wait a little longer
for there is no rush in getting home
[so long as there is still a home when he returns]

he sighs, closes his eyes, and lights another cigarette
as the wind picks up again.

~*~