Distance – Page 37

afternoon hours spent
talking laundry off the line
ahead of the rain
–
the laundromat-
hard plastic chairs
and ennui

my soul recoils from
the cold skeletal touch of
the angel of death
–
twilight-
fireflies lead me
across the river

almost a year clean
yet I still have a hard time
passing by the spoons
–
closing time –
club soda
my paltry reward

immaturity-
unsure of how to deal with
my first streaks of gray
–
afternoon light-
test swatches
on the wall

to ease your burden
I’ll stand by your side a while
and shoulder your load
–
distant clouds-
fences in need
of mending

high flying embers
remnants of a prior life
slowly turn to ash
–
distant thunder-
lightning strikes
a joshua tree

in a basement bar
the windows dirty with time
drinking my coffee
–
sheets of rain-
a community
of strangers

reeds and rushes-
a warm tide ebbs from the marsh
and runs to the sea
–
sea glass-
walking the beach
at low tide

staring at the floor
scuffed and worn beneath my seat
from those in my shoes
–
dawn breaks-
outside the
waiting room

a quick glimpse into
the recesses of my soul
is all I can bear
–
sinister clouds-
reflections of
black water