Thursday, December 01, 2005


Broken umbrella, lying defeated
and dripping in the hallway,
legs akimbo like some grotesquely
broken daddy-long-legs.

Silence, broken only by the intermittent
and unrelenting drip-drop-tick-tock
of rain on winter-hardened soil
forces me back, unforgivingly,
to a time when I had little else to listen to

and liked it that way.

Like the buzzing of a small fly in a
hot summer room invades
the peace of sleep, so my reflections are
distubed by ripples of now, washing over,
and over, wearing away
the gentle sandstone facade of nostalgia.

My eyes fix, unconsciously, unwillingly,
on the invisibly twitching and ludicrous vision
drying slowly and painfully on the floor,
as I fumble with numb and leaden fingers for my keys.

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