TheDustSeason

Alone he walks,

His cape a tattered wave of blue,

To meet the sunlight and the shadow as equals

Laughing as leaves fall, making spirals in their descent,

Through elegies of air.

So still he moves,

Leaning into a soundless void.

Planets in their orbits spin

And yet no shift in his equilibrium shows

That he is out of synch with a world

Built for words.

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Images from a recent walk with my son, I was inspired by the drape of his blue blanket to wax poetic. Happy Halloween everybody. Nanowrimo begins tomorrow. Do not expect great things from me until December.