Sundown brings on the reduced heat
Wind whispering to sail with the tides
Vapors tread quietly upon the feet
Decisions enter & thoroughly abide
Lonely bird settles down on the rails
Experience brings on a sullen glow
We cannot escape when life fails
Currents grip & provide the undertow
“But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.” – William Butler Yeats
Image by Brin Weins from Pixabay
Treading lightly on the soft highway
Searching onward for the Earthbound divinity
Through the desert with the primal scream
Broken decibels ring out, yet amount to infinity
Silver pistol tucked in drawer of hosiery
Known to man only by a chintzy nom de plume
I always preferred a thick bottomed almanac
Slowed, but we have big energy to exhume
Dawn rises, yet the Truth still silently sleeps
Looking for prophets in the glittering sun
Too bright for our modern, mortal myopia
Be still; be patient as time is not yet overrun
Great American notebook
Time to add our verse
Or merely help to tread water
While we all survive
Ringing the ship’s bell
Putting on warm tunes
Honing the proper words
To elevate our voice
Trading euphemisms in the dark
Blankets piled high on the bed
Finding warmth between ourselves
Love inhabits where fear can’t tread
Sheets getting tangled in our bodies
Chorus of breathing getting thick
Cherishing & celebrating each moment
Grateful she still let’s me dip my wick
Captain Q 