searching

searching

I was looking for you, after the rains came, searching for you in the mist, a cool night in the early hours of the morning. No one knew what year it was. No one cared. You had a smoke somewhere with a stranger, you stood high and carelessly tall. All I knew was it was Fall and some day I will stop searching. I did not know what day it was, in the middle of the night, the leaves were still on the trees where they could play with the light and bend to make shadows on the streets below. I was caught inside a maple, walking with a staple in my stomach. I don’t know how it got there, but I had worked in an office too long. There would be no children. The roosters started out from the backs of their skinny throats, it was never too early. I thought I was awake, but when I woke up I realized I was not awake before, and I wondered if I could wake up from this. Life would be easy on your own. No one knew the time. Neither did I. The stranger, he didn’t know a goddam thing, he didn’t know anything at all. The day I stop searching is the day I die. Hell. Everybody knows that.
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s