Upward Motion

I hated leaving,

but twas learned

behavior,

from abuse years

and death

teaching

over the time that passed,

people in the end,

wander away,

and honestly,

I did not blame you

for your goings and comings,

but knew always twas a-comin,

sometimes so harshly,

swiftly,

I staggered backward,

two hundred breaths or so,

at such a wretched sight.

So I sighed,

shut up,

shut down,

spent hours,

most unfortunate,

re-playing tragedies,

looking out windows,

pubs, coffee shops,

car doors,

through blinds

and third eyes,

looking upward,

craving to find

some random

reason to carry on,

carrying the weight

of such a heavy earth

and all her woes.

But I don’t know,

I did indeed seem to catch

a gleam of terrific majesty,

in the snakey bright green color

the trees turn,

after a rain,

set against a grey haunted sky.

In pots of tea

between the best of friends,

laughter of little kids,

big kids,

people,

laughter at all,

despite such sorrows

found in the tears

of a woman

losing her children.

There was greatness

in acts of pleasure,

some reckless but gentle

touches,

brushing souls

against each other,

ever so lightly,

for just an instant,

in cigarettes puffed

down boxcar alleyways,

faces buried in soft pillows

to rest your weary

minds a moment,

life was a

bleeding angel and

we were lucky to listen in

on the magic.