by Chuck A Stetson
Down lifts up once again. The view through the pines remains cluttered. The rain begins; memories fall like a new emotion. Walking in the open wind, the rain cries and worries. No such thing helps solve the once again.
Trying to change, words kept falling. Breathing hurt. The oceans rolled backwards. All was silent. Moonshine ceased caring. The artist’s etching festered on the wrist… kind of funny.
So much for promises made. Shattered dreams ran away. Emptiness offered nothing. Softly, the sunrise cried as if the music stopped whenever hope appeared like a child offering affection.
Far away is insight. Oblivion is remembered. And the view through the pines remains cluttered: blue skies, fat clouds and all dreams passing through the same old song. On the road to somewhere, we try to understand.
© chuck a stetson 2015