A face is pressed against a window watching
sun’s slow slumber falling behind low hills
A face is thin lines etched into vapour caught
between distance and moments of deep winter freeze
Your face invisible
recording passing scenes
You are a passenger
This is a speeding vessel
You are not aimless but
I am only part time a driver
My attention wavers from
this winding road our wheels move along
That lake looks lonesome
like a wanderer dreaming of home.
I look out upon the landscape
broken hearts lay everywhere
no covers on these windows
no shades no shelter from harsh mouthed mothers of opinion
no words of wisdom or compassion too few hands to care
but I hear night stars still tell wonder stories
and if we listen they will shine our fears away
when we feel lost or sad or lonely
when we’re tossed into chaos winds of if only
silent stars are rising up to guide the way
itchi-go itchi-e
these present moments
precious fleeting
as are we
Pencil Notes 