3569. SOME PEOPLE

SOME PEOPLE
Some people dance, some people waltz, some people scale

fences and others take falls. I want to be  neither nor

any of them. I'd rather my force was spent building

bridges to your heart, scaling heights into your mind,

rising the crest of every cloud that floats its blinding

way past you. In Winter, yes, it may be, I too wait

for snow  -  scanning the dark gray skies for what

is coming, what has been announced, the wind, the

flakes and flurries first, and then the massive storm

and all the things that have been announced. Though

it doesn't always work, it gets me by. In Summer,

quite the other way, I hide from blinding sunlight

in the day and seek instead a respite in the shades and

the shadows of night. Things come on like bullets  - 

fast and piercing, cutting bone and limb , slicing hearts

in two, sundering every meaning and what it's meant to do.