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.
It snowed hard last night, my view of this city from 11 floors up lessened by the white glow, even in the darkness. I’m not sure you would call the snowfall unexpected; for days the media chatter predicted an impending doom.
We are now a week into January, so it only seemed natural.
There is a beauty in snow, one that uncovers gentle childhood memories while cloaking the dismal sights of a city flush with societal problems and pain. For a while we can witness a fresh view.
I enjoyed listening to the crunch under my feet as I stepped into the morning chill. Soon the sound of shovels and snow-moving equipment will break the pleasant silence as Toronto’s Sunday traffic picks up its pace.
In a few hours the succulent softness will become grey and slushy and then will be gone. The city will return to its day-to-day familiarity.
Still, for a moment, I enjoyed a little break in the momentum.
01/07/2023 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.