Overtime
Driving home through the city, the sky grey, the streets grey, the dwindling snowbanks crusted in black, a lone man makes an impression on me.
at the bus stop
leaning against a pole …
the face of exhaustion
Visions
The streets dark. The air cold. I pull my jacket up. To cover my chin. To cover my nose. But I can’t. This jacket doesn’t stretch that far. I let go. No handlebars. Just motion. Free motion. I crane my neck. The cold hits my chin again.
seeing the future
in the stars
so bright tonight
Associations
The sky at dawn, purple-ish. The clouds at dawn, thin and white. Walking, I make connections. Connections to what? Connections to something. Something that maybe I have lived. Something that maybe I have not.
wine stains
on the tablecloth …
morning sky
Warming
Each day. Reminders of. A different season. Everything now. Clumped together. No consistency.
walking the dog …
how many scents
the wind has
Bonds
Turning and sliding. Sliding and turning. Stopping and looking back. Waiting, then calling. Do you need help? Sidestepping back to where I started—up and up. Extending a hand. Then turning and sliding. Sliding and turning. Stopping and looking back … Beginners.
sharing tales
in the snow
chairlift
Inaction
Severe weather warning in effect. The sounds outside, unnatural. Things clattering. Windows shrieking. Occasionally, a thud on the wall. So much to say. But how?
all drafts
no stories
windy night
Waiting
Sitting in the warmth of my car, the fan on high, I hold my hands out, in front of the vents. I feel slightly older now, in this moment, on this day, thinking back, on the past thirteen months.
sliding into nothingness …
snowflakes on the windshield
All poems and images are original. If you have any comments, feedback, or suggestions, please feel free to share them.
Nice to see you back here on Hive !
Thanks. It’s nice to be welcomed back.