In the best of company
Harmony days hand-picked for setting the baggage free.
Never far away from the mountain of tempestuous temperatures.
I had knocked on heaven’s door…
But in truth, it took one knock more.
My nemesis is my best friend.
On that outward voices can depend.
Pointing out my flaws…with no compliance to chivalry.
Directing my defects with purposeful mimicry.
He, she or it…the devil’s personal dictator.
Always in the background portraying a self-indulgent Master Piece theater…narrator.
Whether not the willow
Whether within reach of…
the cross in the hall
that paper the wall.
Either a big city under heaven’s hood.
a shack in the woods.
prone to damnation.
Whether it is unimportant to
Weather is not what it
The scent of an approaching snowstorm hangs in the air.
Like the smell of fresh laundry hung on the line.
A breeze is suspicious and foreboding.
And, within one momentary breath, townspeople, will dart hazardous-ly about…
With no true concept of time.
A scent of warmth fills the air.
Yet, being mid January, this toying game…
appears cruel and unfair.
Unsullied water, forgotten berry and mulch…
Apprehend such a brief snippet of time.
And, the long-awaited spring never remains…for long,
on the mind.