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Array
(
[sid] => 183281
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Losing You, Losing Me, Getting Lost
[time] => 2016-06-21 08:00:23
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Evenings have a hopeless beauty as the skies fade to a dusky grey and in the pallid light people/'/s features crumple and soften as do their expressions from taut and strained to slack and melancholy revealing an impossibly aching sort of yearning for sun speckled moments past. On the bus ride home from work the final russet glow kisses the commuters/'/ wan cheeks black irises gleam in their true marbled brown hues as they gaze out of hermetically sealed windows at a poignant picture. The wide, wizened, wise looking tree creased limbs stretched out towards the last gentle rays seeping from a blanched sky. But what if at the end of the day it bared branches grasp no ethereal forms in the sky? What if that is all there is to it? And what if the truths you thought you heard chirruping through the leaves whistling through the eaves were but a cold, earthly twillight breeze? I see sky, I/'/ve been desperately seeking shapes since you, my precious ones were disentangled from the rubble of loose soil and left this earth as if to dust, disintegrated into the unrelenting wind. The sturdy, sinewy branches, like your crinkly, dependable arms beneath I see rain slicked grass and soil kicked up by paws all ebullience, all joie de vivre. But oh what if this dusk-dusted scene is but a wistful portrait projected by a mind jammed set to the past an archaic tape recorder that replays childhood cartoons in an anguished loop. Those stoic soothsayers say the sooner you accept that all is ephemeral the more at peace you/'/d be. But then I see an old lady board the bus with an unwieldy gait in a cotton blouse with paisley prints I clutch my heart and shut my eyes and pray only for her well-being. On the morning bus ride down the same tree-lined street I lean on a cool glass panel eyes half-closed as the sun, warm and amber strokes my head like a comforting hand. I look up to the clouds earnest as I always was I see a clearing a sun dappled mossy garden on the eve of sweet velvety darkness there an old lady chuckling in paisley print and paws padding circles round a benevolent looking tree. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 193 [topic] => 43 [informant] => CARAAAAA [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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