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Lily pads listen to the wind’s drowning whisper,
wondering why not slow to a stop?
Only observing, won’t say a thing.

Miles away, I’m walking down the side streets,
past half pipes and tongue tossed corner beats.
Thoughts unlawfully cross to a sidewalk
to run to the past.

Feet print streets near piled up streetlights.
Slip in a circle to wind up where they were
before they fell in, got lost.
The other side of the frost.

Scrape the handle, dig for keys.
Drive to things I tried to leave.
Roughed up windshield, have a sip.
Check the mirrors, take the trip.

Other side of the frost.
No matter what the cost.

Turning leaves trickle up a stream’s marbled surface,
wondering when the fall ever stops.
Only blowing by, won’t do a thing.

Hours away, I’m skating over blue lines.
Flip, icing life ‘til days drink warmer time.
Eyes surprisingly slide on unfinished rhymes,
reaching out for reason.

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