can i find the way?

the hum is the city

mouths closed silent

opening the day in force

moving in city numbers

calm, fresh, in a rush

good morning, meet those eyes

here i stop to make note

glance the ticking clock

now is our time

the crowd has a timbre, mood, a tone

could be the earth itself,  myself

full up this minding, hear that?

up close, it is not a hum

can i find the way?

undulating through combers

of people's notions;

some minikin thoughts are mine

though sustain on unattached observation.

as moment by moment

days rolling upon another

changing dream clusters

in motion. emotion. commotion.

my ship in harbor, no anchor holds me

waves of people walking, not talking,

not talking, although know well,

in their hearts everyone wants

to detail aloud their current concern,

ailment, injury, or when nothing else

is available, news of a friend or relative

                                                                                    

yes, pain sells like rain to the weatherman

if night dreams lingered

there'd be more to write about

but days would be confusing, jumbled.

again i take pause to note the ticking clock;

now is my time.  now is our time.

long ago my ship left the dock

can i find the way

moving maze forward

through waves of people thought

fumes haze the brain

coat a glaze,  damper the blaze

                                                

now call bill to meet for coffee.

after hello he said today is paper day, a reminder

knows well the trash collection schedule.

he'll tell more when we meet at Angelo's

there, he talks, i drink the coffee.

though i try to subsist on keeping track

make note again, eye toward the ticking clock

now is our time