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.
Month: May 2024
Windswept soil and worry
damper weathered wings. Decades of dust weigh heavily
upon her shoulders, Angel watching over dandelions and
discarded needles on the church lawn. Too early for
spring cleaning, as if nobody cares to notice.
She has seen better days,
long-time caretaker of a street corner where the discarded
and deviant line up weekdays for nutrition, attention
or companionship; someone who will listen
when words are hard to come by.
Without a prayer, or hope,
faith eludes the less fortunate, even under watchful eyes.
It became worse during pandemic days where souls lay about
our streets like Styrofoam and cardboard containers that
once contained lunch. Now litter, useless to anyone.
Heartache by the day, a dose
of prevention one trick away. Beggars and choosers, mothers
and losers. No one sets the table when there is nothing left to eat.
Sole angel, concrete in her ways, is always there,
for those who choose to notice.
© 2024 j.g.lewis
This morning is
just this morning.
Last night
was only a night.
Where we end up is
as much a choice as chance.
A destination will look different
at the end of the day.
05/14/2024 j.g.l.
Posted on May 13, 2024 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
This period of organic transformation, as seasons do what seasons have done before, is full of possibilities.
It is only natural to wonder what happens next as temperatures climb and the sun promotes growth, gratitude, and further change.
This is evolution in its most natural elemental. A beauty to behold, daily, hourly, seasonally.
Take the time to notice.
Enjoy it all.
05/13/2025 j.g.l.
