Simple Flake

The time it takes

For one simple flake

To make its way

Down the streets of New York

Falling carelessly to the ground

Over the Empire State

Shoveling below

Cracking sound

Filling the streets with heavy

Steady and steady

Falling so hard

I can barely make out

One World Trade

In a storm for the ages

Barren isles of food in the store

We bear down the hatches

And get ready

For just a little more

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Summers Waning Pace

Summer wanes

Like an early bird song in the morning

Warming and warning

We heed like leaves awaiting the fall

For changes that will come

Our lives will adjust with seasons

Waxing and waning

All the time anticipating the future

Holding dear to the past and present

We are old enough now

To realize if you look too much ahead

You will be left with future regret

Holding hands

Kissing lips

We await this changes with fires now dim lit

Summers waning pace has tapered off with the months

Cooling heads and sending us off

How I hold the present tight

But know that just letting go

Will be alright

Blooming Questions

The world will not wait

No delay

No reason to hesitate

I move

I question

I try

In the evening

Under the crisp

Morning sky

Our destiny

Uncertain

Questions blooming

Into discussions

Full answers restricted

Unknown

Somedays feel

As if we go

Where the wind will blow

Us

But today

Reasons develop reasonably

In this season of cold

We set out on a journey

Forward march

Is where we will go

Liquid Lights

Chicago

 

 

 

 

 

Liquid Lights

The polar vortex winter

What the heck is that

Where hot and cold intersect

Casting a spinner on the midwest

Over Chicago, Gary, and South Bend

The rust belt on lake Michigan’s end

A vortex

Sets 4 feet of snow on the deck

I am amazed at the violence this

Storm creates

Thrashing cars on highways

Like liquid lights on the road

It is unlike any winter I have known

Where the volatile winds blow

The crushing cold

Oh the cold

It seems unbearable

Stopping pumping engines in its tracks

Planes left running

On snow filled tarmacs

A smack

Of this winter vortex

Sets us spinning

Holding on to wheels

Less like driving

More like swimming

I hope to see the end

We just pull up a chair and watch

The true entertainer

The dropping thermometer

Watching it fall

Way below what I have ever known

Freezing finger tips instantly

With a frigid blast

I can only hope

This vortex

Is my first and my last