7/27/08

Stars held hands with earthbound shimmers
till my eyes confused the two—
not knowing,
simply squinting at a lovely enmity.

People,
endless people,
quicken to be younger, less informed, more aware;
while I am growing tired,
growing older,
growing old.

...growing colder in my head and maybe heart.

My feet kept shuffling forward
aching lonely little aches that rise and fall as oceans breathe:
slowly, yet impatient, never certain where to rest.

I sat down out of habit,
blinking eyes with sleep and
every whispered revelation:

all is not as magic,
nor as shiny as it seemed.

A still and fleeting picture
through a camera,
then a peephole,
through a window
at the sky—

confusing neon for horizon
on a bus leaving the fair.