orgami's diary

orgami's Diaryland Diary

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ashs

Coffee shop full of flurry
and the hot sun basking
sipping
sitting
while jets carve their
white fingermarks
on table turned blue

The marble of history
like a slab
thick and fragile
tombstone welcome
holding down the
ghosts
holding up the Now

You are You and I am me
this will never change
we will never develop

we sit like waiters
in the station
waiting for what we
already know has
left the platform
before we even rose
to meet the leaving

skies fill with storms
and sun
nights fill with stars
and moons

and the years grow bold

So few I remember the smiles
leaning in
at the fencelines of life
come in for a coffee
come in for a tea

the television flickers
the candle glow
and the yellow stained
night full of drizzle
falls like thoughts in
a dreamers slumber

Im not your junk yard
dog and your not my
poet princess

but we write anyway
the sharp edged muse
contacts we brief

like bitter bright waves
in October
and the shrill coming
of winter past November

4:27 p.m. - 2010-08-04

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