1 AM...

"1 AM..."

Sunday mornin'
1 AM
sitting
staring off into distances,
into darknesses,
past memory,
creaking - settling - cooling
noises echo soft
and the mind -
wanders, wonders
and finds...

"Wishes..."

I kissed her -
soft,
softer than a feather
being drawn across a fingertip,
my lips touching
touched as if it were her own lips
tasting
finding
her
for the first time...
again
and KNEW
...magic.

"Me..."

I am -
a gentle curiosity,
a Rubic's Cube come to life
with facets to be turned
and turned and turned
'til boredom sets in
then shelved from sight.
A puzzle past being solved,
a moment's triviality -
good for the laugh,
a laugh
once-a-day...
or night.

"Echoes..."

I used to draw -
pastels -
but what I saw
wasn't real
'cept to me.
Now I put my 'vision'
into words -
quiet
simple
little things - words
that I allow to change
all on their own
'til they TOUCH
inside in ways more REAL than
the life we think we know,
ways that can't be believed
yet
somehow
ARE
quite real afterall.

"A Stray..."

The dog ate my shoes
I laughed... you scolded...
Basement flooded -
2nd pair gone.

Your slippers replaced,
mine await in the trash.
I wear the last - quietly,
without complaint -
is as I am, was, and will be.

My belt wore away - 'til breaking
and is gone.
Pants fray - threads age,
seperate, buttons fall.
I window shop - at the malls,
eyes follow as you shop
store-to-store-to-store...
wait as you rest
then follow once more.
You buy for you and yours -
but not me...
is as should be -
I'm just the stray.

Chris Twyford
Ancient117331
04/11/2005