And o’er it all
Arced golden steel
To celebrate
The westward move
The same is true
When exploring
Philosophy, science
And relationships
The subject
Of any investigation
Is not always as interesting
As the context of its conditions
He is a shadow
That is his essence
It surprised me
That I admired him
For his perseverance
For his tenacity
For his will to exist
For his endurance
We learn to speak
In ways elegant
And ignorant
We grow old
Or we don’t
But all of us
We die
I stop for a moment
Lean up against the fender
In the dry, brittle air
While the engine tinks and cracks
I never tire
Of the small wonders this world offers
Freedom
Ain’t never gotten with a dollar
Or no lawful decree
Not like a box car
Give to me
In a city of
Greys and dust
And muted blues
A young smile
Comes to me
“Take my picture”
She says
Then stands there
Happy and poised
In vivid red
With filters
Adding colours
With thinking
Adding meanings
Until the world I see
Looks nothing like
The world which is
Here
and
There
Holdover from a time
Of neon
Air-con
And movin’ on
Pix to Words 