He who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed.
--Albert Einstein --

Friday, November 7, 2008

Irrelevant Here

On a bench by the carwash waiting for the bus
she cries with the rain
swirling clouds and pain
sobs with the smell of water and dust

And the train rumbles through a small town
she wants more than this
he promised more than this
and delivered her the bottom side of down

Thirty-five years to get to irrelevant here
smiling at the thought
of all life has brought
wincing at the thought of acquainted future fear

A bus to somewhere else pulls up in the sun
won't look for a rainbow
as she's standing up to go
never looking back now that she's decided to run

July 3, 2008

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