What is this?
These words are only a reflection of what is happening
a conversation at midnight after a seamless day of bad decisions
The chronicle of yes
in that affirmation something pure
In turn it will give back to the night
a breathable pitch that will keep corner alleys
open systems, even come sun
No closure shall be found, leading to entropy
that which is kept open stays alive, fresh air incites living
True in cold touch physics as in tear filled hospital
rooms of dying.
Take them out
Take their husks to hilltop country and let the wind lift their untying skins, frighten them into a last glimpse of the humor in our frailty. The wind will not let them die. They have kept leaves aloft, dead for days on the fallen and buried ground.
This one, who still breathes, houses much hope to another day. He may still have wise musings, laughter for children and piercing looks that will goad us to charges
Before having had his fill
of even spring breezes,
Let life weather me down to such aging, while the gales of looming adventure keep pulling me high. Together they will battle inside all of us while I dance only forward
seeking friends' laughing
stumbling happy to the drink
I find the moments many don't