SOMETIMES
Sometimes, like this, I am sitting alone.
It is 6am, it is 7. Truly, I have nowhere
to go. The semblance of a July light
hits my soul like a rock and I reel -
back a bit, over to the side. Farther off,
a man is whistling, and an emergency siren
too is heard. But for a moment, both.
For these are but enticing passes, the
human load, the moment. I watch
the bricks as they catch the light.
Quiet and soulful it seems, in a way,
sad. I can no longer dissemble. No
sense why I'm here, and no reason
to be. Maybe in a cloak of madness
the madness is grabbing me. But,
no matter; this garden setting
still holds my heart.
Sometimes, like this, I am sitting alone.
It is 6am, it is 7. Truly, I have nowhere
to go. The semblance of a July light
hits my soul like a rock and I reel -
back a bit, over to the side. Farther off,
a man is whistling, and an emergency siren
too is heard. But for a moment, both.
For these are but enticing passes, the
human load, the moment. I watch
the bricks as they catch the light.
Quiet and soulful it seems, in a way,
sad. I can no longer dissemble. No
sense why I'm here, and no reason
to be. Maybe in a cloak of madness
the madness is grabbing me. But,
no matter; this garden setting
still holds my heart.
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