A Walk In The Park

A Walk in The Park

Black fingers
stretch across azure skies.
pull the darkness in
thunder rolls across

Wait a minute, Ruiz, you're
stealing your own best lines,
Hey they're as good as anything
I've written, (I seem to be talking
a lot to myself these days.)
but I digress,

The squirrel lady with the red hair,
shouts (she always talks loudly even
to her bushy-tailed audience):
"It's gonna rain." I say: "No shit,
Sherlock." She laughs. "You're gonna
get wet." Well, I'll just play a game
with myself, see if I can do the 4 miles
before the sky falls on me.
Thunder growling
thunder thunder thunder
Ha! I'm not afraid of you, it's that Lightning
strike that could leave me in a puff of smoke,
like that pancake of an incendiary car on the
highway last night, drivers who can not look away
at a caterpillar crawl, my heart sank for a few moments
life will never be the same for his Beloveds, and there's
sure to make a blip on a local paper, that's three the last
week or so,
but I digress,

I must be the only fool walking in this kind of weather,
a storm about to be born, and then I see a woman walking
the other way, she says "I thought I was the only crazy fool
out here today." I told her I was just thinking that. And
so with a few more grumbles and groans, I thought I had
outwitted this story, and then the smell of sulfur permeated
the air,
O God, fire and brimstone surely must not be far behind
but I digress,

The last stretch and an elderly couple and I come to a fork
in the road, he holds up his old-fashioned umbrella, the one
with the long steel point and says: "See, I've even brought
my own lightening rod." I passed by him before I laughed out
loud, turned around to see him turning around, laughing with
glee.
but I digress,

And so I walked  the ninth inning of hide and seek,
smile as I
outwitted the storm that never happened.
The sun shining,
the last days of summer are warm,
and there's not even an angry cloud to mark the passing,,

one never knows where a poem takes you
or how it will end.

8/14/08

The first stanza is from this poem:

The Bridge Of Black Fingers

 
Black fingers
stretch across azure skies.
pull the darkness in
thunder rolls across
a frightened underworld
upside-down words
rise above cold lights,
flee
a gathering storm.

Broken hearts do not mend well
near
a cast-away silent white

unashamed,
we pass through like lonely dreams
still water...
and falling rain.