Cold bone, hot iron and a shallow grave,
No gods to keep what the blood can’t save.
Choke the light from the dying sun—
Till the pulse stops cold and the fight is done.

So many lonely people walking around empty and void in their search for Purpose.

Every day is a tapestry of black and gray as time chips away at the facade beneath the surface.

Going through the motions , as a matter of survival with no end in sight , but the end is next and we know it and cannot escape it.

Wandering, through the ruins of a world, lost between childhood and delusion. Our innocents can never be reclaimed.

We need each other , but can't trust one another, just a face without a name.

I opened the curtain and smiled.
“Good morning, Friday!”

On my early walk, I smiled 
at the mourning dove strutting
in front of me, its wings whistling
as it flew away.

A most delightful grin
spread across my face when,
at first glance, a small
leaf appeared to be a toad.

I smiled at the bicyclist,
then I smiled at the squirrel
scrambling to get out of his way.

And other people who also
enjoy an early morning walk -
I smiled at them, too.

The voice is heard, Jenny are you there? 
The T.V.’s still on with it’s commercials. 
The children ain’t crying only the dog is sighing, 
She said she would leave but this isn’t a rehearsal.

I ride out to her mother’s gray house, 
Her car is parked but no sign of any other, 
Walking around back where her footprints are fresh, 
Her father in tears tells me “don’t bother.”

Like every change that came before

it could not be done, consensus said;

pyramids and ships, Columbus,

planes and moon landings,

the attributes of birds and animals,

transferred to humans –

Gaudi buildings and surgeons’ tools

designed on snake bodies,

sonar and ultrasound from bats,

sharkskin swimmers,

glueless gecko pads for climbers,

eagles’ sight attached to human eyes

and wing-suit flight

down miles of mountain,

glider-possum style.

Now reverse transference -