poetry. Normally not a style I write in, at least not since my early 20s. Sporadically, the words for a poem enter the mind and this was one of those times.
Tears fall heavy
Tears fall fast
Music weaves through the ears
setting the brain afire via kerosene-soaked memories
Lost time, incorrect twice a day
Rolling into a heap of last words, final thoughts amid an ordinary email
Importance, though nothing was said.
Impact, yet there was no bracing for it.
Tick, tock; fresh, day and night
Night and day
Seconds played over an eternity
An eternity wrapped in a single phone call.
Fumbled words trail off
Deflation at 30,000 feet.
A mess, never fully cleaned
simply tidied up
brushed away to another compartment
Stored until the chord strikes on cue
Bringing forth a storm, swallowed by time.
The dam will again break
the tears will fall heavy
the tears will fall fast.
photo credit: Jason Haskins