Red String

There’s a red red cord that only you and I can see.
It winds around you in circles tightly but not enough to bind you. Only one line extends from you to me a link between you to me. No one can see this. Its our connection that we know exists. I can call to you by tugging on my end of the cord, sending silent messages in hope that they reach you.

That line between you and I is as long as it needs to be. Sometimes its a meter, other times no space at all, and at times on the other side of what I know exists. Over that horizon and a few more is you. Living, working, knowing of this faintly present bond. A round circle on a wall marks the hour, counts down the time till that line shortens elastically to zero.

Deaf Man Passes Cards and Pens

Deaf man passes cards and pens

To each table with occupants

Asking for money

A bit of money

To fuel his life

With change that was not his own

What change can become of this?

Not much at all but more walking

Passing cards and asking with

A small card for change.

Change that is not given

For the skeptic

Does not know fully

What shoes he wears.

A new day, new snowstorm.

The night ticks on

measured by the ticking time on the clock.
I am waiting for the time to pass by when I can see the one who makes me laugh
merrily, dance, and fall in love with language all over again.

For this I can love anew to this one catalyst,

who lets me dream, a dream

wish my wishes

climb up towers and mountains

I waive at the world from the tallest point, the pinnacle

where I can send my gratitude, my love

to my love.
I wish to hold you again and make some happiness, in a smile

a laugh and all in between.

Distant fluffy clouds

I am dreaming of the block of time to pass me by,

I wave at it.

I am home and I gaze outdoors wondering when this time will travel by.

How long will it take… I don’t exactly know.

but it won’t be long. not long for feel chilly

its rather chilling to wait for that fluff to pass by

while I wait and wish for the warmth

to spread and engulf.