Smoke
Smoke
If only I could
Just be philosophical
For one moment in my
Entire life I wouldn’t be me
Being perfectly honest I’m always
On a jag about existential nonsense
Photography doesn’t help me find actuality
All I do is look back and wonder how much I missed
I take comfort in knowing I have not missed it all
Friday night walks in the dark along city streets
Brings much color to my mind and my eyes
Snippets of conversation about glorious art
Beautiful memories and real time smiles
Enrich my heart with the joy of being
Many of my words are the smoke
That billows forth from below
Real and almost tangible
Disappearing into the
Cool night air
Of vespers
Stumble It!
Isn’t it true that we feel that way about ourselves…yet our friends may think quite differently. The billowing smoke brings real time smiles and sometimes lingers and brings a grin from time to time, as our words pass through the minds of cherished ones, throughout time.