Slow Walk, Winter Night

For it was a chilly moment,

when while the sun began to set

I looked inside her eyes,

only to realize

hers would no longer shine

instead a sort of quiet resign.

~

Oh, we did smile many years ago,

and yet still

there seems this need of mine,

this tortured self fulfilling misery,

I must feel capable,

have some solace in knowing

I am not the loathsome man

I feel my internal self can be.

~

A slow walk on a wintry night,

to evaluate,

find my soul inside the crisp clear sky,

where dreams would happen

if only I might

know again the beauty of a starlit moment

holding fortune

holding fortune

in certain tender hands

a quiet peace of mind.


© Thom Amundsen 11/2020

Me and My Dog

Clever how we begin

a reminiscent

wave of emotion

rolls through our mind.

Tonight while I lay alone

avoiding that

temperature

this runny nose

that freaks me out

leaves me wonder

how might I ever take care of

my dog.

All we have is

an affection

loyal in a soft fur

lays next to me

winter night.

I am alone

though this is ok

love another day

for so does he,

me and my dog


©️ Thom Amundsen 11/2020

While Anxiety Will Surge

Someone might remind kindness,

our soul may arise from the depths

of a shadowed past, preventing present

its opportunity to thrive

inside the worrisome reality of this pandemic,

our Covid moments, turn months into years,

stopping our normalcy,

creating a new reality,

one so often overlooked until suddenly today,

we do stand alone,

looking through our own shuttered windows,

a silent in the winds of a night with crisp winter

looming upon decency,

the ability to see through the forest

the quiet meadow where all of our lives,

were once spent holding one another,

and then there is today,

I watched the sunset tonight,

dog at my side

dog at my side

dog at my beck and call,

please stay by my side.


˙© Thom Amundsen 11/2020

In This My Quiet

Is when then known only me

Some is the sacrifice

More often is penchant to grieve

Finding only solace

A genuine peace

Pressures are off

Too soon we would scoff

For know that day

Beautiful sunrise

Warm is energy late fall

While the morning mellows

Changing winds

Still elude this fellow

His smile

Forever held in eyes

Enough that

His soul

Would that he might

Would he still find

Her heart

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In Darkness There is a Blue

Trying to find that color,

searching since a child,

I remember gatherings

with friends my age and teenage elders,

those we all wished to emulate,

sitting amongst ourselves,

laughs, giggles, smiles,

seduction,

every aspect of the human condition,

would enhance this sensation,

our sensory being.

~

I could lay in the middle of a field

soft whisper of midnight breeze

look at the sky, the miles of sky

stars and occasional glints of light,

a shooting star where a wish is missed

so then in that singular moment

a self-critical adamant fear

begins to sweep through the forest

the moment gone now,

left feeling cold in a farmer’s field.

~

Twenty years later, or even more now,

decades of afterthought,

the what-ifs, whens, why nots, the who …

we all want to care about something,

and yet,

lost as I could with every search of word,

would it matter at all,

if one day,

the words just failed to appear.

~

I wonder the beauty of a blue horizon,

is it a state of mind or some intricate light show.


© Thom Amundsen 10/2020