Draft

Some days 
thought escapes
like heat
through the
drafty windows
disappearing outside
without concern
maybe even
feeling free
and those
few that
are trapped
inside with
me run
to the
same windows
and write
their messages
in frost
by way
of words

Harmonica

A harmonica honks
like my father
used to play
a dozen geese
screeching in unison
I never understood
harmony until I
heard it now
and its melody
coming back reminding
me of Christmas
God rest ye
very merry gentlemen

See

Far east clouds 
hovering above plains
blocks the sun
making my west
facing windows gloomy
outside I see
blue just a
reach away a
city in between
and the mountains
in my way

Alone

If freedom 
had a
feeling then
alone would
be it
the silence
that comes
and stays
and isn’t
scared away

Do

I write 
what’s in
my heart
the things
that my
mind tells
me not
to say