As the fog was slowly lifting
From around the edges of the
Dimly lit lamp post I could see
In the distance it was all still hanging
Congregating with the firs
My hands had not yet warmed
Adjusting to the eminently
Cooler air more than was the day before
The crunching of shells and seeds
Beneath my boots and an array
Of differently colored leaves
Quiet now just the drips of
Early nights rain and the slow
Subtle humming of a machine
In the background idles
Still no smoke from chimneys riding
Through the sky but the dream
Of living this life beats strong while
Walking in it became more apparent
If to survive like a lone dog
In Mexico that people occasionally
Put food out for or a solitary sandpiper
Wandering the archipelago
Asking for nothing in particular
Perhaps the only breakfast of
A grasshopper or the comforting
Of a sun and stream though the
Days are full of little things to
Remind us we’re alive often
We are peddling about the earth
With aimless meanderings
© GÄ
Poétique 