Small cold mountains
Changing yet staying the same
Bright silver points.
Solid lines
Changes through the day
Seeking the sun.
Two black hands
Finding the right time
Time to go.
Commute
I get up, good morning to you; and dance in the cold shower.
Out the door, always in a rush. And pound the pavement.
The tarmac snake becomes a tidal floodplain of cars,
which I watch safely from the shore.
In the morning the lights guide the cars back to the working grounds
releasing yesterdays catch.
Luminescent cranes plucking at the faces of the walkers and myself
A new day of races.
No-cat
What does the No-cat think of?
The No-cat has no opinion on the matter.
Falling while travelling
Instigated by a prod to the chest
I travel by falling
A straight line course
From Point A to Point L
I stop abruptly
I have been caught
As I have caught them
