Revelations

Moody night shanks the mind
As thoughts realize into
Hormonal black stallions - in sight of
Street light suns illuminating
Stark contrasts of shadowed bark against the snow.

Frozen silhouettes and
Cloudy breath visible under
Smoker’s cough adjustment

Silence.

If only there was time for more
Than just one of these a year;
Internal conversations with the giver…

Moments.
Small cunning pieces of time;
Patchworks sewn into life.

Unforeseen fragments where
Everything stops

Time no longer exists and all you have
Is the smallest sliver of stillness where
The past is no longer a span of time, but a picture:
A single frame culmination of all that was,
sitting in awe of the here and now…

He sips long and hard at
a bottle of burned sepia --
placing a slow, artsy tone on
those he's lost perspective.

Here's to the year;
what I've learned and
what I am.