It is hard to know if here could be anywhere. How can you tell? It is where I am. I carry some sadness with both of my hands. It is about the amount of a spoonful and the color of a mountain. crows yelling flower smelling bikes belling They've cleared so many trees from the park and there's no telling if that was the right thing to do. Depends on who you ask. A lack remains a lack. old growth slow growth the air feels rich and wise years and years and years to shape the rings funny how many things you still may not know about home an entire effort may be felled in an instant only circles left to inspect I remember. I remember. Through the trees that still stand- the sea. If you save a capsized boat - if you can make it float- it is yours to keep. The water is moving. The water is calling. The water is deep.
Already a small homogenous group convinced of their own importance race to the top of an anthill have we ever worked less like a colony? have we ever been less like a hive? what I wouldn't give for a queen a softer energy footsteps becoming leaps I hope when they arrive they are able to see in us a quality we no longer seem willing or able to see in ourselves
When it rains it pours we say sink or float leaves for boats in a perfect puddle the playground is ours and the rain picks up we are singing we are swinging and everything is new for a couple of hours the grey arrived along with fall thoughts dad worries electric bill went up temporary crown broken mom split a gut laughing at an inside joke from childhood and the kids grow and grow and grow until we are all very old rain, rain splish splish splash thunder lightning listen- CRASH! Oh now feel it when it rains it pours centrifugal force and I see the grey and it smells like rain and I feel it I feel it Alive and afraid to lose. Less and less light on incredible views melancholy right on cue and I feel it