Saturday, January 24, 2015

The Golden Serpent

I am stumbling upwards through the air
Dumbstruck at the lack of connection

The man at the end of the street
With the walker rubs his glasses,
Blaming it on the fog.

The girl in the pink dress on the sidewalk
Is too busy staring at her phone
To even care about gravity.

The father holding his son's hand,
Says it is some stunt that I'm pulling.
"Look for wires above him" 

The businessman holds his head,
In the graffitied bus stop 
And looks down at his suitcase
Wondering if I'm holding up traffic 

A determined face grimacing in exertion,
Sprints towards the rising figure he sees,
Howling with desperation
Madman's eyes looking determinedly
Upward to the understander.

He launches his feet off the ground,
And looks at me in the eyes.
A piece of paper in his trembling hand.
"Give this to her"

He seems to defy gravity for long enough 
To let me grab the paper 
In my ascension.
And then falls to the ground,
Sweat dripping from his hands.

He sits and watches the figure rise
While the sirens come to take him
Huddled into the white tidy cars:
Going back to the hospital he ran from.

I watch the scene skyward,
Invisible to the people that won't
Even bother to look up.

Our desert (haiku)

I look through photos Our life through the four seasons Back through the old ones.  Blossoming in spring With all the diverse flowers ...