Transition – A Poem

 

Transition

Lost in a meaning
transition
to a park bench
a man borrowing space
time
A pond reflecting leaves
gathered
goldening along the shore.

His mind coiled
hesitating
content
birds talons scratch into
the silver branches
Suspend

ten years
prior movie theater newsreels
of World War 3 4
(numerologists parsing the sums
publicly airing
their differences)
Bring the Boys Home Uncle!
Bring the Boys
and Girls
Home!

Late night
a quiet one
no longer anything to say or too much
to
A walk over snow-covered
streets
crystalline
hand in hand to a bright café
a table
serve
spliced memories captured
in a photographical jumble

Fire in the basement
furnace
crimson indigo dance
the house creeks and wakens
and the cold dissipates
briefly retreating
to the attic
Man asks for a light
in the dark
and locks the door

“Someone at the office told me then news,”
he says
“Can’t be too careful.
Outlaws
are everywhere these days.”

Time passes with grilled cheese
green beans
and vodka
unnoticed announcements invitations
left
unanswered.

Transition
a bench
a pond
leaves and birds
branches
his furrowed face captivated in
the evolution of
ages begetting meaninglessness.

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