A little cold, little wet,
a little tired and yet
I am here. Still,
full of wonder.
The morning chill leaves
little to the imagination
and much less
to hope for.
Expected, perhaps, as it
always is, this time, this
season is only what
we ask of it.
11/21/2024 j.g.l.
The answers are far less certain
than even last week, to all those
perennial questions or solutions
you might seek.
What do you believe, or
what do you believe in?
Come Monday, you have fewer
questions than you had last week.
For a while there are less doubts
in what you believe.
Whom do you believe in,
and who believes in you?
11/18/2024 j.g.l.
We want to know what
we don’t know, or hadn’t thought of,
or forgot.
What mattered then,
or what mattered when, shifts over time.
We notice.
Perception is what you don’t see.
Deception is what know.
You see it differently through your aloneness.
The truth behind a lie,
you question how and why.
It made sense.
Anticipation keeps us waiting
for only so long. Will it matter
if you felt it never did?
© 2021 j.g. lewis
I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
FASHIONABLY FAMILIAR
I like to think of myself
as comfort, a useful item
that can provide warmth, or dress up
the most casual of moments.
I am totally natural, 100 % wool,
even a vegan would like me,
because they would see the practicality.
I’m dark, yes, but not black . . .
a resplendent charcoal grey that can
compliment, or highlight any colour.
I fit in anywhere, can be slipped
under a topcoat,
or get stuffed in a packsack for later
and, generally, come out looking good.
A bit rumpled, perhaps,
but a crease indicates character.
I make a T-shirt look good,
or prop up a button-down.
You can take me anywhere.
I’m not too thick, can still feel
the slight breeze in the autumn way,
or nipples pressing against me
in a passionate embrace
at the end of a day.
I’m not at all trendy, but fashionable
in a fashion that lasts
for years and years.
Timeless.
I am there, a cardigan. Comfort.
Familiarity.
A necessity.
I’m the right size and the right fit;
the right style, for me, as you can see.
© 2015 j.g. lewis
I’m like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.