once told me there’s nothing when we die
I find nothing sitting next to me
And I found nothing next to his ears
and eyes and mouth
His mind was lost
trying to lead me
God apparently left few traces
for few to follow
every morning sun and sunset
To read is to think-
So says the setting sun,
washing away the definition
of my rambling mind,
as I read the writings of
the Sun’s last grip.
I’m viewing the grey lifeless skyline
hoping to soon see a dripping sunset.
I’m thinking the decaying leaves
are also disinterested in more soggy
New England October weather and
would rather trade it for the crispness
that often rides along, clinging to the winds,
while the moon is high, full and alive,
pushing away low lying cloud cover
to expose the naked sky and silent stars.
My family and I are up north. This is our view. Cheers.
There’s something about the sun going down that I admire.
It never looks back.
My shirt is ripped near my elbow
I’m uncomfortable but happy
I have a beer open
The dryer has another button in it
I don’t care about its clanging
And outside my window stirs
A brilliant sunset
Sometimes the sun goes down
a little lower than it should
we don’t tell anyone
they wouldn’t notice anyway
Calm Now –
For your shadow harbors more-
Than your person-
copyright 2015-M. Taggart.
Originally published on November 22, 2015-
Westerly, RI. Photo taken by myself.
Enjoy your morning,