Over the top we go.
Into a new time domain.
Guiding the way.
To where, I can't say.
Take two steps north, turn left, then spin around.
Have lunch. Look at the sky. Anything there?
Call it an excuse.
I'll take it.
One here, one there.
I can count this far. Easily.
That. Is the. Right question.
Quiet here, but.
Colorful if you look deeper.
Red, black, and nothing else.
Staring us in the face.
I'm dreaming of a day off.
Unplugged, to kick my catnip habit.
Things are swirling.
Headed for that black hole.
National winter begins today day.
Even in Canada. Which we hear is not that far away.
Or something like it.
Once upon a time.
I remember that.
At least the colors.
When it's here you don't notice.
When it's gone you can't remember.
Stucco and paint. Drab and faint.
With a few tweaks it reveals that it aint.
And might be.
But I'm not paying attention today, so buzz off.
Like I know anything.
And I almost was. Snoozing, actually. Quite pleasant.
Then the cat came to wake me. Dinner time. Must go.
This looks depressing.
It isn't. I am.
This is not an image of that.
Or of anything else, much, really.
Just like the exit from Friday.
Seen from the downhill side. What can I say?
Shows a warm heart.
To those who seek it.
Not here. Not then.
Not there. Not now. Not anywhere.
Counting up from one you get here pretty soon.
Stop. Stare. Fail to see.
That's here, that's now, that's me.
A cracked bee is a happy bee.
Back in the shade where things are more laid back.
This December day. Been out walking. And.
There's craziness in the air, my friend. All over.
I see it, back there where the black should be.
Resting bluefully, content.
December takes a bite. November disappears.
In an instant. Magic or mystery? Who can say?
Some call it the hump.
But I call it comfy, nestled, buffered. Cozy.
I don't know how I do it.
I just do.
Small dry layers.
Inside small dry folds. All crinkly.
Is approaching. Colors fading soon in the wet.
Time for a long winter nap.
While remaining sober, thoughtful, and upright.
And clothed, which is pretty much expected around here.
You poke at them enough.
They come out this way.
Shows my alley thoughts, bricked.
On my way home to drink alone. Think blue.
Droning in color is encouraged.
Until boredom kills the thrill.
Today's lucky number.
Found between two cracks in the veil of reality.
Everything returns to flatness.
Including our emotions. If we let them.
Not much here. But it's mine.
Keep moving, please.
Snowing now, with a chance of icicles.
All the hamsters are safe and snug in their burrows, munching nuts.
You know what's in the details.
Truth. Love. Joy. Colored squiggly things.
What can I say?
Leafs, flowers, sunshine.
All those things which, like love and kindness, have no value.
A bit of color.
Just in time for winter.
Knocked flat? Wasted? Put out of commission?
Or just waiting comfortably for the right time? Monday is a good day to decide.
It saw me.
We saw each other. So it goes.
Another crepuscular Saturday.
Sitting here, waiting for spring.