7th September 2009
I be hearing endless squeaks,
As the warmth rides up my shoulder,
And the quiet faces no longer feel the need to
Chatter to each other.
I picture slow dawns and rabid sunlight as
My fingers race their way across a hundred commands;
I begin to count my blessings in the form of
Small rectangles and squares.
A set of six lights of several familiar shapes
Like a small set of eyes on an extra-terrestial,
And solemnly, I touch the tips of my fingers to one.
I watch the lights fade in and out,
Feeling my feet curl in,
And nothing worries me more than the feeling
I hold and bear within.
I realise I forgot to bring what captures
Pieces of life,
I forget the moments and little things that
I was supposed to recall,
But one thing I do remember is that each and every day
There is something I must do, without fail.
As the soles of my shoes squeak terribly –
I feel lucky, and bid the young woman thanks,
Though quietly, not noticeably,
As I see the feet walk by the window;
Feeling hidden away.