03 April, 2013

Losantiville Lines: Poetry Month, Day 3

3.

Today is not the day.

The sun rises so smooth, too,
seamless in a crisp morning,
embodying the image of divine clarity.

The day winds on, alternates between
dragging and rushing,
the edges of each minute
sewn together like burlap sacks.

The mind wanders on --
more lazy than frenetic,
the way an eye glances over
and releases the body
of a long ignored lover.
By mid-day, there is no point,
not to any of it.

He meanders through his memories,
through days and moments past,
a ghost haunting his own life.

There is no satisfaction left
in the watered down whiskey
or in the thought that somewhere,
on the other side of the wall,
there is something great and beautiful
waiting for his eyes to capture it.

Location:Cincinnati, Ohio