The day seemed gray and sorry, When by the shore, in rue, I saw a girl taking a picture Of herself and the ocean, too. And I laughed for a moment, thinking, How petty thoughts can be: When there are wonders right at hand If I would simply See

The day seemed gray and sorry, When by the shore, in rue, I saw a girl taking a picture Of herself and the ocean, too. And I laughed for a moment, thinking, How petty thoughts can be: When there are wonders right at hand If I would simply See
The world weighs on us heavy, The world will hit us hard; There is no place to hide from grief, No shield, or bodyguard, And I could see it all with her. Perhaps you'll understand: When sympathy, like air, flows out, It's not at our Command
The sun is setting full behind the trees
Its rays like arms that reach up in the sky
Then slowly start to fade out by degrees
As crickets sing an evening lullaby
With frogs that you can also hear nearby
And wind and cars to finish the refrain
So put down everything that's gone awry
Let go of all your sorrows and your pain
Release the thoughts that bind you to the breeze
Hold on with all your heart to times like these
He thought they’d had, for them,
A quite good day.
He took the garbage out
Before she asked, complimented
Her on the new hair style, and
Listened for some time after
Inquiring as to her day
He tried to make eye contact as
She was taking unusable things out
If the refrigerator and moving them
To the garbage can, smiling on
Occasion to show his sympathy with
The vicissitudes of that day’s battle
He commented on how selfless she
Always was, and how people took
Advantage, sometimes; as she finished
Drying her hands after washing them,
He lightly placed his hands on her shoulders
Whereupon she recoiled, turning at
Once to pass that off as a gesture of
Busy procedure on to the next task, while he
Realized with the first dim realization of
A new forever that
What used to be good enough for her
Wasn’t good enough any more
He drank his first glass while watching the sun go down over the bayou, enjoying the warm air and the sounds of reggae music.
When she arrived, minutes later, he realized, instantly, that it is possible for something perfect to become even more perfect.
She danced with a hotel guest tonight, as she was checking him in — a dance consisting of fleeting smiles and half-meaningful glances — but the song seemed to end too soon, and, there was a line of less attractive partners waiting for a turn.
She felt the river take her back
To when her days were young:
When lights along the fireplace
And Christmas tree were hung
When somehow tears began to flow
From secret, aching wells:
The promised magic she once knew
In harmony
And bells
setting out to sightsee breaking out of boredom met by misty morning aching antemortem dim the destination dark the track we travel limited our license larks unreel, unravel
september, ending up like a story that
lost steam in about the fourth chapter, but
which you felt obligated to finish, since
time, like other investments, stays
adhered to our attention