The empty calm
a blank paper 
of new day
paints and pen
at the ready 
waiting to sketch 
draw or write 
putting down and 
pushing back from 
just to listen 
to that lovely 
almost missed nothing 

Is it wrong 
of me to 
remember and long
of the melody 
that so after 
became our song 
was it right 
for you after 
all to fight 
with all of 
your bitter might 
to flee into 
the dark and 
cold November night 

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

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 

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