a moment ago I thought, for just a moment.. just teetering
on the edge of existence
, as if not knowing itself whether to be, or not.. the pitter patter
, or slight, abrupt gust of wind that was not the freeway behind my house, but something else. for a moment I could hear it, imagine it cleanly, new, in my mind, the leaves of the overgrown tree outside the window trying to hold on
to the sound of drops of rain upon their slick surfaces. I was wrong. it is not raining, my mind playing tricks.
fitting it would be, though, if it were. If today were a day that the gray in the sky was not melancholy but freshness, like good baked bread
, the crisp smell of a midday drizzle. what else could I call it, here, where rain never falls
but lightly. it would be a great day, I would say, but the greatness has not been there on the other days when rain did greet me, as if forgotten, pushed aside, I could hardly notice. not then. today, though, I could use something different
, a sound that is not the same mp3s playing again, and again.. something that was not so snugly fitting into the life that I have called mine.
of all the lives I've had, incapable of fitting together whether it be what has gone, what is now, or what comes tomorrow
, next week, another lifetime to be. simply being
that they are incapable of coming together has left me unsettled here. it's okay, I say. it's okay, I agree. but nonetheless, I miss the days that made me wonder if it would be more sardines in the morning, the days that despite it all, at least I had the rain