My Picture

By tree and blade of grass,
a cold breeze swept through the city.
A single beat, with histories mingling
from a netherworld.

A freezing fuzziness in my eyes and head
and darkness scattered.
I watch searchingly,
at the people walking in dead leaves.
Nothing seemed as it was, nothing felt new.

The girls had fireflies in their hair,
and the boys wrote
calligraphy in the clouds…..
a slow burning love.

The beat became louder,
quick frozen faces.
Snapshots of times before the ancestors,
before we sank into the dreams.
A cold swept through the city today.