What happens when you step away
from the everyday, for a while
(or longer)?
A new locale, an unfamiliar bed, an
alternative view overhead
there is always another way instead;
at least there will be this week.
Even a wristwatch looks different today
for deadlines have no purpose or place
this week.
A well-deserved break, to say the least.
11/04/2024 j.g.l.
What of today, tomorrow
or next week?
What about the weary,
the impoverished, and the meek?
What becomes the answer or
the validation that you seek?
11/01/2024 j.g.l.
Dissemination of information
fast and furious. Daily, hourly,
minute by minute, it accounts
for our perception, rightly or
wrongly.
Who would know the truth?
Who should know the truth?
Ask me.
If I am not a liar, then I am
not a man.
How will I know questions
from the answers?
It is not multiple choice, but
there are many versions of
what you need to know.
If only you would ask.
10/31/2024 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.
Clocks set back, days ahead altered
as if time can be held, still
we cannot fool ourselves in believing.
The sun will still set.
We seldom lose hours as much as
we change our trajectory.
It will get darker, before you know.
The sun will still rise.
Between where and then, light will
strike any object in its path
as long as it is able. Faithfully, we watch.
The sun sets.
This autumn, this November,
carries a tone of melancholy.
Steadfast, I can only stare back.
The sun rises.
I know about fear, or fear what I know.
Remnants of the day,
routinely, have so much less to offer.
The sun will still set.
When all that you know becomes
all that you have, you are
unable to consider possibility.
The sun will still rise
We live and breathe, twenty-four hours
daily. Memory will serve us;
those uncertain, those unbroken.
© 2019 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.