How do we choose to travel?
What is reliable in the rain?
What is our ultimate destination,
for this time, this journey, or
this day?
We move at the speed of life.
Depending on traffic, others
may chose to follow your path,
but not your direction.
© 2021 j.g. lewis
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.
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.
Crisp white shirt and a coffee stain,
to my chagrin, or much disdain.
I tried not to dribble, but I did.
Again. The sun shines brightly, on
a beautiful day, and I now carry
a souvenir to remind me of
my errant ways. I tried to slow down,
attempted to change, and now must
move about wearing the residue of
my mistake. Mishaps, careless errors,
or unforeseen disruptions, don’t we all
carry around with us a shadow of
what was. Not always is it this obvious,
rarely this Instant, the stains of the past
remain, as do the costs. Only some of it
will come out in the wash.
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.
One reply on “The Stain Remains”
Exquisite and telling of slight to the malingering; to the unfolding shadows and the essences of what our ‘mistakes’ keep teaching us. Thank you.