Sun rays roll down the green grass & ochre weeds
Yellow, bitter, flowers, litter the hillside
Long red rays turning pink as split figs
Orange as hot coals, blue as the ocean
Then the bustle of twilight, such noise
Streaking headlights fade into receding redness
Carrying their sound with them, down the road
Figures, sillouhetes, wander by me, quiet conversations
Wind stirs their outlines, rustles their clothing, their hair
Bringing me the scent of dust, of split juniper
Darkness descends, but it cannot ***** out street lights
Or the flourescent floodlights, glaring artifical brightness
Or the blinking red eyes of radio masts
I'll peddle back now, chased by headlights
Down black asphalt roads, black as the night
Radiated heat, gathered from this boiling day
Sweat pouring down my face, into my eyes
Breath tearing at my chest, blood racing through veins
I have to outrun the night, to make it on time
To that quiet destination, a little room on the second story
With a chair, a desk, a shelf full of unread books
A yellow notepad, a pen that doesn't work so well
Arrowheads and unshaped stones, a bullet on the dresser
My grandpas old knife, a symbol of the ****** Mary
Your charms that you carelessly left behind
A small tiled room with a shower to stand under
Watch it drain away, dirt & soap, all of it
A face stares back at me, changed, distorted
A reflection in the mirror, a reflection that was me

The sky rushes by in spilt milk splendor
A fading memory of August, listening to the rain
Thunder in the mountains, echoes in empty spaces
Rocky tree lines, kissed by melting snow
The flow of time undefined by thought
Only a concept, only an illusion
The deeper meaning of silent meditation
In solitary places among the pines

Isn't it funny
How the day can be so sunny
The clouds just seem to run away
Wispy fingers of condensation
Receding into vapor, invisible
Coming and going like spring showers
As subtle as silence
Reforming themselves on their blue tapestry
To an orchestra of grasshoppers

White wings with brown circles
Plates of armor, black and orange
They discovered your weakness in the night
A ***** in your chitinous plate
All you sought was the shining fluorescent light
As you rested on the window sill
Now your wings flutter uselessly, a vain attempt
To fly away on morning breezes, all for naught
This cast iron tombstone, your final resting place
How dignified, you must think?
Dying on a piece of cheap lawn furniture
Don't worry; your broken wings will fly again
In the beaks of sparrows and crows

The pen shakes in my hand; to write these words
Sleep all day, sleep all night, doesn't matter
Haven't missed much, an empty conversation
Exchanged under this leaking roof in whispers
Slumping on the porch, watching it all drip down
Pinging off of empty brown bottles in the grass
Keeping time by your breathing, the rain pours down
As I hold your hand in mine, side by side
Puddles overflow, spilling their cloudy contents
Only to fill another puddle

I walk through this city blue
Writing books of unwritten verse
From simple, daily, conversations
Jotted down on cheap notepads
A couple walks together, same routine
Adopted from uncounted years, together
A cigarette hangs from cracked, chapped, lips
His cane taps out a rhythm, hobbling along
Sounds overlap, reverberate off cinder block walls
Voices blend into seamless harmony
A lonely man sits alone in his apartment
Surrounded by books stacked on creaking shelves
Waiting on a call, just to hear her voice
Cars come but never go, an endless procession
Ebbing & flowing, tides of gasoline & steel
Filling blank lines with mass produced ink
While I watch a game of chess in the park
Strategies countered by intuition, or luck
Blind to the outside world, they play on
Paint chips off walls as blurred faces walk by
Cracked concrete crumbles by paces & strides
Only to be overrun by sprouting, spiny, weeds
Crushed into pulp by careless, rushing, feet
Beats of a jazz quartet, pouring from an open door
Echoing down empty hallways, finding my ears by chance
I'll keep walking, through this blue city, until I find you once again
I wrote a letter to you, my love, to this day its not been sent

Oak tree in the middle of a field, the limbs are twisting, dancing,
but no wind is blowing.
Dry grass stands still, a flower disintegrates off its stalk,
colors fading, degrading.
My house used to stand here, when I was a child, now there is just a tree,
such green leaves...
All these memories, swept away in the night, but there is no wind blowing,
never has, really.
You stand next to me in my mind, but you're long gone, in reality,
decomposing.
A blurred outline of a face, something that was, but is no more,
never could have been, really.
I sit on the corner of this concrete slab, watching the clouds rush by,
shedding alkaline tears.
Birds ride the currents, gliding effortlessly, but the wind doesn't blow,
it never has.
Fence posts, dry as paper, they've stood under this harsh sun too long,
but this sun has never shown.
I'll sit here a while longer, under these rustling leaves,
sounds reminiscent of crashing waves.
You were a gust of wind, drying sweat & tears from my face
that feeling left with you, & the wind blows for me no longer.