Distance

For, You

Late afternoon, the eye dims against the bleeding clouds – feeling the urge
To fill the sky with dirty window panes, and watch the darkness erase.
Throwing brief glances every now and then, back to see if the sun still shines.
No one is there; it just pats me on the shoulder and says nevermind.

Closed eyes, blink, never, not see, not hear – how serene it is
How calm the air is when you choose not to listen
While life pounds madly on my door, I just lay back and pretend no one's home
But watch, as the salt and moisture cut granite to sand, and blades of grass poke between the cracks

But I guess that's how it is
An overgrown neglected gap - a Goliath without a David, rampaging between our distant lives
It's the little things you miss, the little things that get lost in the green, the ravine
How soon is now, how far is then, where do roads cross, where they end

The thunder drapes around the expanse of empty space, downpours of emotional grey.
The cement is warm, the world, silent – just the echo of passing cars and high beam lights.
Lick the concrete, and wear the mud, even if it's always raining – you still have to try.
From time to time, I look back to check if you might be there – but all I find is the sunlight, telling me to forget.