nature and time
to do: get prescription filled
call mom and dad
get a featherlock
I can't believe it's already June 13th. Where do the days go? I stand under a tree for a minute, enjoy the shade, watch the sunlight filter through the canopy, and it's June 13th. A little girl somewhere is standing in an hour glass during a wind storm. The moon is tied firmly to a balloon string and it bobs with me through another night. I stand on the balcony, contemplate the wind and how it dismembers smoke, walk inside, and scratch another day from the list of days.
A man sleeps through his adolescence and awakes an adult. His natural instinct is to hone his body, to learn to shoot. Suddenly he has been thrown into this war of mating and money. The woman enhances her breasts and walks with a new gait, discussing tactics with the other women. They are still children. I am still that little girl in the hour glass. Do wolves run alone or in packs? A storm converges in the east and carries away a week.
Where am I all the time? Crossing a parking lot to reach my car. Watching children and their dutiful parents bop about. In line at the deli. It's not that I don't love you, I do; I just have to let you go. Can't you, as a friend, let me do that? "What vegetables would you like with that?" Oh, extra lettuce. I put a receipt in a trash can and it all passes me by, the strangers and the sun, and I let it go. Goodbye.
call mom and dad
get a featherlock
I can't believe it's already June 13th. Where do the days go? I stand under a tree for a minute, enjoy the shade, watch the sunlight filter through the canopy, and it's June 13th. A little girl somewhere is standing in an hour glass during a wind storm. The moon is tied firmly to a balloon string and it bobs with me through another night. I stand on the balcony, contemplate the wind and how it dismembers smoke, walk inside, and scratch another day from the list of days.
A man sleeps through his adolescence and awakes an adult. His natural instinct is to hone his body, to learn to shoot. Suddenly he has been thrown into this war of mating and money. The woman enhances her breasts and walks with a new gait, discussing tactics with the other women. They are still children. I am still that little girl in the hour glass. Do wolves run alone or in packs? A storm converges in the east and carries away a week.
Where am I all the time? Crossing a parking lot to reach my car. Watching children and their dutiful parents bop about. In line at the deli. It's not that I don't love you, I do; I just have to let you go. Can't you, as a friend, let me do that? "What vegetables would you like with that?" Oh, extra lettuce. I put a receipt in a trash can and it all passes me by, the strangers and the sun, and I let it go. Goodbye.