Midsummer

the longest day of the year

is past

the sun has come and gone

at last

spring's flowers fade in summer's 

gleam

and autumn's leaves shall soon

be seen

the blazing heat belies

the chill

the waning days softly

foretell

another year is dying 

slow

how many more i do

not know

the future with its rosy

hue

is full of things that i

must do

tomorrow soon becomes

today

and then my change has gone

away

the years pile up instead

of dreams

and all the ghosts of might-

have-beens

the garment of the life 

i wear

is full of holes and so

threadbare

my thoughts are like the crows

outside

so loud with things i might 

have tried

the years behind are like 

this day

an echo of what cannot 

stay

and so i bid the sun 

adieu

to God the past make all 

things new

shuffle step

I saw an old man walking

his shoulders softly drooping

the shuffle step

the weight of years

the questions never pausing

I gazed at him unseen

though rough his steps not stopping

from where he came

to where he goes

I knew I'd never know

Has time to him been kind

do memories haunt his way

of faces gone

what might have been

I mused on possibilities

He might have stayed indoors

decaying by the fire

yet on the eve

of death's new day

he chose to soldier on

Perhaps in hime I see

the path we all may tread

each day a chance

to venture forth

and see what lies ahead

lock the door

the years stretch out 

i close the door

another task 

another chore

five years past and gone

maybe more

have i lost myself

in the mundane

the strong bolt turns 

pin tumblers slick

i think of nothing

that's the trick

to still the thoughts

that poke and prick

and keep me safe

from the truth

if i can forget

tomorrow won't come

where all the hopes

and fears are from

and all the things

i haven't done

might slowly and softly

creep away

another year passes

lines on my face grey in my hair

the years they pass quickly

forgetting more than i recall

i'm still not sure i will be

we live each day in clouds

pausing not to remember

how far how long the journey is

the account someday to render

inside i'm not as far along

with more behind than to come

if not for these failing bones

that tell the story of all i've done

fears and hopes failures too

the years bring these and more

to run to rest to soldier on

with eyes on what's in store

becoming me success eludes

as lonely grows the way

it matters not if i get there soon

but i must arrive today

sludge spot

there's a spot under the pot

where the sun never shines

the moss is growing fast

the water never dries

a year or two or maybe three

the warp has now set in

the rot is strong it won't last long

entropy in 3-D

pine needles join the dance

a moldy tango fierce

another drop another drip

the point of no return

beneath the moss under the pot

the wood is holding still

but touch the spot so full of rot 

it crumbles instantly

beware the dark and damp

where no light enters in

things left too long decay

compost in formation

before that moment passes by

move the pot let it dry

coming

spring is dark mornings

when you feel set back

when life is bursting

but it is hard to get started

a flower slowly opens

and snow showers down

the unending night continues

getting shorter each day

you find something you lost

and lost something you found

and sometimes you are unsure

which is the right way up

each moment is full of hope

a potent elixir of potential

your dreams full of omens

an unmade world out of reach

the waking hours seem long

your heavy feet drag

spring is everything possible

nothing seems to happen

until you turn around

and winter is gone

orphan thoughts

i hold a small life in my hands

it moves, it breathes, it purrs

its days are numbered this is one

as it runs to two i think of others

this winter season ending time

a parent lost a loved one gone

a moving breathing life silent

just as i was once held

the arms that hold me hold no longer

though you may become the one

who holds the small beating life

you are never ready to be an orphan

when you can no longer nestle

find security in a strong embrace

the sun still shines and the day is three

counting down to eternity

i hold the little fur ball closer

four of how many days are past

i grasp life in this fleeting moment

as Dillard ironically noted

instead of holding on to rocks

my orphan heart seeks others

small lives to snuggle close

until the day is done