Some days,

A different perspective

Is needed, as a gentle ...

Soft, gentle, young.

Opening,

For a new season. ...

Organized, linear,

With enough discreet colors,

To fit, and feel comfortable. ...

Some days,

Are strangely quiet.

No cars, cowbells, ...

Turn, turn.

Don’t stop.

Take me somewhere unknown. ...

Some days,

When the sun sets,

Everything looks, and ...

Packed together, closely.

Different shapes.

Similar colors. ...

Cut, piled,

Ready to gather up.

Dinner awaits ...

Stuck,

Inside a hardened world.

Naked, and sad. ...

I’d live there.

Whichever apartment,

Doesn’t matter. ...

Old mystical stories say,

Heaven lies beyond blue skies.

I wonder if unseen trees ...

Soft, delicate, rare.

The magical freshness,

In Spring’s first green. ...

At the end,

Under this blue sky,

Despite every ...

One day,

He disappeared.

Just over there, ...

Another grey day,

When clouds drift by,

Unannounced. ...

Achy, bland days.

When holes and stains,

Are felt everywhere. ...

Peaceful, overflowing,

But devoid of people.

Like silent thoughts, ...

A milky galaxy,

Light years away.

Perhaps artwork, ...

Long time,

Since the bike felt alive.

Dirt and rust have grown, ...

Early May, and

There are mornings,

When it still snows. ...