I step from the low light
Of a winter’s sun
Into the curtained canopy of a evergreen stand
Pausing, time for eyes to adjust
To the darkness
Where the sun never reaches
A faint sound of gently moving of water
I step to it’s musical tone
Where there is rock by the stream
To sit, watch and listen
Until I imagine what will be
The time of the setting sun
So I may head home in its’ light
Years of living with someone
It’s a Yin and Yang thing
Compromise with a kiss on the cheek
Anger, yet cuddling in bed
Hand holding or rolling of one’s eyes
Yet there are times
Like when the wife asks you to duck tape her
How excited the thought is, I’m sure that is no surprise
No, no, no, no
Don’t let your imaginations run wild
For it wasn’t anything like that!!
Let the picture below, make it perfectly clear
A dress form made for an individual
So long as the evening snacks are limited
A duct taped wife without a head, covered up for modesty sake
To repeat those words of a sort-of famous neighbor to the north
Canada’s Red Green loosely translated
“If you can’t fix it with duct tape
It’s probability not worth fixing”
Say It Softly
So I may Hear
Words that matter
That you may not
Want to share
I carry a jar with me
So that I may
When the occasion arises
Collect my good fortune
To save for another day
When I can reach in
I will hope
For more good fortune
Or at least
Hold on to the memory of it
We who live in the north
Know winter can be harsh
With that cold wind
A sun that never reaches
High in the sky
Yet it has its’ moments
In the quietness of a new snows’ fall
Or as the sun returns to a new day
To shine on the beauty of winter
If only for a short time
As the light of a morning sky rises
The song of birds greet a new day
My mind wants to capture
Those morning colors
Over the last shadows of night
So I may hold on to it
As the day moves forward
A fine line is drawn
With a sharpen point
Light to the touch
Yet can still be seen
For dimension of lines
Occupy space
A fine line to cut
With the thickness of a blade
How close the cut
To the right side of the line
That is the goal of the craft
Tiny water droplets suspended in the clouds
As they move on the currents of air
Until the burden of its’ weight
Releases and water drops fall to the earth
To be absorbed
To flow and make it way to the sea
To move on the current of oceans
To evaporate back to the clouds
Continuing cycles
With the ebb and flow of life
We move at a pace
That approaches
The speed of sound and light
To live in a world
That becomes
More and more unfamiliar
Sometimes you just have
To sit and wonder
Where are we headed?
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photography by Greg Urbano
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