i am a leaf

i am a leaf

from a tree

that feel to the ground

before

and now is

beginning to crumble

under its own weight.

efortlessly i decompose

into other

smaller

things,

that nourish the earth below me and

cascade through colours

as they slowly

fade

to nothing.

to remember is to try to forget

it seems like yesterday;
cold strong winds
that whip around the block
and
freeze the bones from the meat
leaving me crawling for
the heat only a younger body can create.
winter.
the time of our birth.
the exterior retreats inside.
and rests a while, to draw on
the vast strength of spring and summer and
at this point i am born.
i breath.
i take first steps.
remember:
huddled before the oil heater,
birthday gifts and elations
while others complain of the weather
that truns us on and off.
a museum;
winter has its own attractions.

a good feeling

sometimes
theres a place within the
clangs
and beeps
that even a fool can feel.
sometimes
a warm and solid space
that seems to grow
and so multiply.
i am sure
it will not last.

upsanddowns

downward.upward.and. downward.
waves of warm air press
inevitably
toward the highest point.
creating stress in the body
that releases in
long cool sighs
and
progresses, always
downward.upward.and.downward.

awkward

awkard.
backward,
forward.
if only without
words.
it is definately
progressing
so, so, slowly.
and yet,
it seems to keep on
keeping with the times, but
progressing so, so,
slowly.
a picture
on the wall,
not fading but
progressing
so, so slowly.
awkward, isnt it.

when everything stops

when everything stops,
it is;
glorious
an episode that
tells you that you
liked it better when it was going.
and so to stop is often
downplayed,
but
to stop (in our world)
can hardly appear an end;
it just helps us
to go.
confused?
you should be
that's what they want.

the soundtrack to my year

the soundtrack to my year
is not a hit
but it grows on you.
like the cold hard leaves of ivy
that creep up the walls of
those english cottages
all the folk
buy
and can't afford to restore.
the energy of beiber.
i shift
gears
effortlessly
in a clumsy and
often unsafe manner
which thrills the girls
and makes friends
weep and
often
turn away.
the soundtrack to my life is not available
but it is out there,
stirring fast
like too much sugar in coffee.
no fees.
just costs.