Bus Window

Translucent image of myself

Amongst many

Yet I am individual?

Perhaps not.

I, this glim little soul

Within the abundant life we see

So deep

I can see within my soul

What have I become?

This is not me

Nor a faded image of myself

Where am I going?

Why such a fearful existence?

I wish to capture this

This moment of clarity

This moment of true rediscovery

I weep

For I may not grasp it all in time.


As the wind blew across his neck, his entire life began to reply itself in his mind.

The birth of his three children and the many times of great joy he has experienced.

He thought to himself, “It is really over? Have I lost everything?”

A single tear began it’s desent down his face and as it slowly met the tip of his nose, his cell phone rang, vibrating against his chest.

He contemplated whether to answer it for some time and as the third ring began he picked it up.

It was little Stephanie, “Daddy, don’t forget the treats for Lizzie!” she exclaimed!

His heart stopped as he mustered up his reply, “I’ll remember my little moon glow” he said softly.

Hanging up the phone, he stepped of the ledge and fell to the ground.

For a moment, he lay there sobbing. Not with tears of sorrow, but tears of joy. It was overwhelming to him that the thought even crossed his mind.

With so much beauty and love in his life, what are a few set backs?

Only a reason to try harder. So he took himself down from his almost end and the only thing on his mind was making it home in time for supper.


Past times building memories,

As slowly present fades.

Faces less familiar

And loved ones hard to find.

Here I stand left looking

Still searching within this nothingness.

Goodbye life.

Farewell, sweet distant reality.

Innocence loves evil as hours pass us by.

Minutes close to seconds

And seconds now to dust.

Pastimes built the memory

That life has now erased.

My Gypsy Man

A gypsy man once held my hand

And said he knew my future.

He moaned and hummed a gypsy hum

And tickled me with a feather.

He closed his eyes and with a sigh…

He gasped and choked and staggered,

“Your life is gone, yet you’re still here!

I’m puzzled as to why yet?”

I laughed at him and then I smiled

“Well that explains my sleepless nights

And horrific cries for mercy.”

I must have been a bad, bad girl

This life’s not life, but hell you see

With hurt I burn eternally.

Image courtesy of Witthaya Phonsawat at freedigitalphotos.net