Ambiance Drifting By (from the Oblivion series)
-July 19, 2013
Grey skies pouring, birds still chirp
outside the open door and the neighbor’s dog
barks out in the distance. The cracking roar
from thunderstorm and splashing wheels
passing in the streets. The clack
of a shutting door resonates
followed by the start of an engine.
The piano pitch is rising from the upstair's bedroom.
The music softens and the rhythm spins
like walking down spiral stairs.
A sip of green tea and the scent from the honey mixed in.
I sit under the light at the dining room table. And I’m writing
these words in my notebook, sliding the ink between the lines
of this paper. I wanted to go on a hike today, but decided
to sleep-in and eat a late breakfast. Tomorrow, I’ll shave
and head off to work, but should I expect anything different?
Aside from the mundane-everyday,
the occasional sarcastic jokes, and the routine
procession of time.
Aren’t I longing for a smile
or for something completely more?
The water drips from the balcony. Strings composed by Bach
playing off from the ambiance outside.
My soul is soft like a ghost in the morning fog. Hidden
within the whiteness. Drifting in the air,
lost somewhere in the atmosphere.
I look out the door and I see the puddles that have formed
and some flow down the parking lot creating miniature
river systems and ‘beds. The air is fresh and the light
isn’t really a blue or a grey, but the trees are green,
and the bark has darkened to an almost black.
I hear my neighbor’s dog once more and another engine
and then the car driving off.
Tomorrow will I find another little memento,
which lately I’ve been collecting? Or shall I stumble upon
something new or simply carry on through the rapids
until I’m floating on my back gazing up
into the vast white and blue. . . .