horns playing
background
ceiling fan
spinning
cycle after
cycle
the breeze
blowing all the smoke
elsewhere now
becomes the only time
thought stricken
the silence
only sound is
pen on the page
birds sound
happier here
up higher words
giving
voice to
emotions
wasted in the
passed
sun sets behind
mountains
and clouds
sitting where the rain fell
dry by now or
at least hoping
sitting looking
at two lotus flower
maybe they have
always been there
just took some time
to uncover
one by one
counting the moments
tranquility and
silence
missing my
solitude
and a muse…
No comments:
Post a Comment