He saved her life. But it was a long time ago…
People were just shadows. Every moment was filled with longing for the lost presence. She has always wanted to stop time. Everything was just a mirage of a changing consciousness. She wasn't sure whether the surrounding reality exists. She felt like a spider tangling a net of events. Among whispers, glances and voices she created fictitious worlds. Every word was a story. The moment reminded her of a river of childhood. She waded in the water like a heron. The water was calm, clear as a mirror. Everything was possible. The boundary between childhood and adulthood did not exist. She has always lived in a world of dreams. Mother told her to keep her feet on the ground.
-Life is a way-she remembered her mother saying it-people can change it and make You happy-there are many ways that You can choose, but it’s not always Your way of life, sometimes You can wander and return, the way can be far away, but it’s worth to fight for Your dreams, always cherish yourself and don’t give up
She liked to listen to the sounds of life. Existence seen through the mirror was falling apart to pieces. The shapes seemed unreal, immersed in a pure form, without beginning and end. It was closed in the microcosm of her visions.
She wanted to spread out wings and fly away, look at life from a distance. Mother, father, family, it was the world that ensures peace, time was playing her like a doll in spite of passing…
She has always wanted to see him once again and thank him for everything: a new life, friends, family and a helping hand…
Suddenly she saw the light. She listened intently to the melodies of existence woven of the finest matter and dreams. Place where you can immerse yourself and observe the surrounding reality. Light and darkness, colour and sound, everything was repeatable, reflecting the circle of life.
She met him again.
-J. is that You?
The cry of her son has interrupted her musings. Life has come back to normal.
She was happy.

the fluffy dog
searching for the cone and stick
in the nearby park
plays happily with the wind,
neglecting the flow of time

cats at the table
purr at the poetry book
as if playing jazz:
furry philosophers
analyzing human art?

I once wrote a list of things
That represented me :

Smoke from a discarded cigarette,
Rain on the Ocean,
A saturday matinee.

I wrote that I was a penny
On a train track, waiting.

             ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Well guess what, folks-
The engine  has arrivd.
        ljm

Can't remember the last time I got paid
Lost my worldly goods
Now I am stranded
By the house on the water

The river is the only thing
That moves real fast
As time nestles in.
Life seems normal
On the water
Like an everyday occurrence

I got laid last night
Drew my mind-set around my body
Down through my toes
The river keeps coming from nowhere
More and more
My mind is reeling like a movie
From your touch last night

The morning starts
With mist on the water
The wintery bare trees
Hold the mist at bay
Like a man sitting smoking
In a dim and crowded room
Just waiting for something
Gray and bad-lunged p
And slow to move the day along

That cold sun pulls back
The ice like curtain
Man, you got to see the sun
Another day by the water
And I ain't got no work and no pay

By midday no one's calling
But the ducks that skim the water
The rocks can't hold back the river
Hushing sound of water
I try to think of something else
But baby, your power
Has me someplace else

Picture you naked as you were
Got to have you, got to be there
All the time
It's your distance
That keeps killing me
And the waiting by the river

Call you, got to call you
From the house on the water.