Approach

10th March 2009

Standing.
     Feeling the dodge of something
     a little more ordinary.
Fleeting.
Past the view of a sea of heads
     and beyond the
     apologetic smile
     of a stranger.
Wind.
Scurrying through anything
     more than the familiar
     echoes below.
Fearing.
The fall of four steps below
that falls into more than
     nothingness.
The heat rises from my feet
as it hits the ceiling tinged with blue and pink.
Inspired.
     To recount the sensation
     of something running
     through the clouded
     haze of my
     thought.
Out of it.
The constant hum,
     the strain of off balance
     in the hope of an
     invisible ovation.
Refusing to stop,
     an ongoing breeze
     of rattle, hum and
     echo.
Nearly,
     somewhere within reach;
     quiet chatter and slower rattle.
A horn.
     The shuffle of feet to allow
     and give an old man way.
The run of a duplicate as
     sunset sunlight illuminates
     my vision.
The sun has not yet set.
Near the door I feel the glare
     of two occupants
     that show ignorant
     volatile affection.
It makes me miss him, a lot more than I actually do.
I feel slightly
     frightened; slightly
     amiable; mostly
     anticipating
     relief.
The rattle of the doors.
My determination amazes me.
A race;
     the halt of a duplicate
     not for behind
     following the expected
     halt of the vehicle.
The clatter of footsteps up a
     flight of stairs.
Sunset has not yet come.

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