Identity. Man, woman, father, mother, sister, brother, friend or foe. One or the other. Who are you? Co-dependent, rather questionably independent, beholden to no one else. Do you wonder? Misrepresented. Misunderstood, or mistaken for another. Image. Imagine who you could be. More than meaningful interpretation, we often change with the situation.
The sleep, the time, the daylight we have gained will only be taken back. In the spring we lose, in the fall we gain, a practice we continue, again and again. Will our lives change much over a meagre hour? Does time have its place, its privilege, or power to disrupt emotions; what is yours or what’s mine? Will it make any real difference?
wet pavement and leaves incense for a time the scent reaching for reminders when and how november rain washing away the silence striking down fear we sit saying nothing feeling all has been forgotten all we know is real you want to believe despite what you tell yourself confusing confusion with wanderlust and bewilderment truth will last longer than the rain washing away the silence pulling off the pain
What instances or occasions do we choose to not observe, acknowledge, or try to comprehend?
How can we ignore the shifting beauty of the leaves, the final days of colour before wicked winds, a nightly chill, turn our landscape to a humble grey.
We will feel the deficit, unnoticed in the entirety.
What happens when we do not stop to pay attention to the slight motion of a raindrop in a puddle on a drizzly day, or look past the kaleidoscope haze as errant drops diffuse light on the lenses of your eyeglasses.
Our vision is not clear to the reality of people passing by on the sidewalk, on the way to work or school, perhaps paying as little attention to the surroundings as we do.