A Quiet Travel Reveal

I walked through a mall the other day,

only to find a way out,

you see caught up in the melee

of a holiday spray,

I couldn’t discover an easier way.

I thought of all the people nearby,

each of them finghting to find their way,

we were all in a box

with windows and registers and products

of gold for the moment of reveal,

that later would become

just another reminder

of why or because we do feel.

 

I walked through the mall today,

noticed the exit and went about my way.

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Sights in a Small Town Cafe

Java Moose

java moose in grand marais

I watched the lines continue to grow,

all wanting, waiting, wishing,

yet I never knew the latter,

especially by expression,

I only managed to maybe gather,

their reasons to be seemed rather

the same as mine and yours.

 

Not your typical cafe I might add,

the people wanting much more,

than the usual scenario

-to see and be seen-

to more be understood,

to be in line with a certain

pleasure,

beyond the usual fare.

 

In a north-wood cafe,

the goal is not to stay,

yet it seems the rains have made it that way,

so the lines have increased,

though the attitude remain the same,

we are all part of this universe,

and today is just another day.

Empty Spaces – The Road Taken – Photo Challenge

The Road Taken

img_6289

And yet there were travelers, all of the eyes,

the minds, the plays, the laughter that contained

an avenue of freedom inside quiet minds, sighs,

while everywhere around a humanity maintained.

 

Where have they all gone, the inspiration, surreal

is the occasional dreamer who steps inside wonder

only toward the stranger that perhaps might feel

questioned, in an accentuated fog of a hereafter.

 

Perhaps if we might contain each story’s beginning

to reach the end, all of the internal warfare being

forgotten while nostalgic, the dreamer again did sing

a sorrowful melody of some melancholy meandering.

 

Oh, now there is a silent road ahead where people muse

we imagine an emptiness filled by travelers we amuse.

Landing Gear

Select eyes historical vibes

We wonder precarious lives

Travel bags aligned to cry

the next few hours telling why

~

we all wear select fabric.

Represent shallow instinct

the need to suggest identity

is far and a weighted travesty.

~

We are the same ticket stamped

just quieter at the outset …

Though in hours beyond settle

the nerves of what is our mettle.

~

Speak to the nature of humanity

Less the lunacy of our sanity.

 

Wonder Highways

How many hours spent

rolling wheels

distant sunlight

turns to slow sunset,

miles away,

traveling forever,

I remember the endless

glance to the sky,

waiting for the next …

miracle.

~

Always did  wish

for some reprieve,

back of heads,

one smoking,

the other in a similar

place 40 years later,

we were isolated

in our own travel

companion.

~

There lies beyond

our reach, well,

my reach really,

some answer,

a proclamation,

a sudden reality

wavering in the sky,

just beyond our eyes,

yet there it is,

speaking silently,

looking like some

unattainable,

God.

On Cloudy Afternoon

Measure the moment we respond

to that which attracts our eye

skies may be cloudy beyond

while we examine questions why.

~

While we examine questions why

our eyes will well up in a flash

a quick glance a memory we espy

our soul-searching ringlet sash

~

our soul-searching ringlet sash

provides a lofty circumstance

one hopes may quick to dash

tying bonds our lives by chance.

~

tying bonds our lives by chance

we walk inside a dream as child

step out without an easy glance

to know today we’re now the wild

~

to know today we’re now the wild

asked to be what we might lend

somewhat less now, more the child

yet that is all we might defend.

~

A cloudy wind-swept afternoon in May,

I recall this moment just another way.

Face Reminders

Through the glass she smiled straight ahead

with pensive eyes inside a sun streaked pane

that face is familiar

a typical roadway stop

if when we glance

can we define lives

within our reach

yet safe and detached.

I remember the time

traveling with even pace,

I came upon her eyes

a few lights at a time,

she never glanced at him,

always looking ahead.

I wondered if just once,

might she turn my way,

would her contemplation

become one of joy.

the lights turned green again,

soon he drove her away

the next few highways

left me wondering about her,

could she be happy,

glancing straight ahead.

I wonder what her life might be

while we see our lives

together in the waves

while we face reminders.

Our lives in a glance