title

the train left the station
in a mist and a dream
no turning back
can't tear out pages
or take back the book
read the story
played the scenes

silently waiting
speak to those things
sitting dormat
until a moment
of maturity
motion made still

how shall time speak
those unspoken ...

it didn't take any time for the tears to start flowin this morning...a family, their faces..attending one of their son's funeral for the second time...losing sons in war...not one but two...they only have three...the third son is on 25-day emergency bereavement leave but will return to complete his tour in an environment that is non threatening...the father was like an unshakable pillar, refusing to get ...

the quiet brings the morning message
to the cool dawn of early autumn
carried along the shimmering leaves

the changing scent drifts
across the wide open meadow
to the dense green forest

the finest dust of harvest
sprinkles the spirited earth
soothing dreams of snowy winter

didn't seem likely
that one step from the edge
would lead the way here
hazy lines of secret doors
open to tree-lined streets
filled w/purple flowers smiling songs

empty benches
filled with unseen faces
chatting loudly reminiscing

anxiety stops to visit
certain of acceptance
and finds no vacant seat

...

not long to decide
walkin' those hesitating moments
.....like dripping honey
she hardly considered the cat
what would happen to her

funny the things one considers important
in moments of uncertainty
reserved for adventures only
she crosses 'em then uncrosses 'em
darn legs went to sleep

the music stirred
disturbing her distraction
rod stewart sings maggie mae
...where was he
did he drift ...