There is a quiet release when lost
everything we touch seems to have a purpose
yet we cannot figure out why
we have been the reason to know
we’re becoming familiar with the frost.
The sky is very dark today
darkened by this sacred epiphany
of what is reality
how does our fantasy
play a role in how we roll
on any given day.
I’ve watched the sky in tears all day
the streets running with her fears
the avenues clustered and phobic
with so much moisture
we can’t find a way to keep
shy of the sky her rage.
I walked in silence today
the quiet holds my intrigue.