In my Mind, on my feet, then from my heart.

Three Separate Poems.

1.
Lit from within
when the sky bears no sun;
sitting in an unfamiliar
setting
in a familiar
place.
Tapping on acoustic wood
the twang hits weary ears
gravel words
tumble
across
my
face
love and work.
Distinctly feeling
the wind on my face.
Wishing for it back.

Wooden wheels
creaking
in the distance.
The sound of resting
heels
boots that have shuffled
to a
stop.

Feeling the image
of weathered hands
moving over smooth
driftwood.

The wind blows
once more
then settles
and strings
are picked.
In the
still
air.

2.
Smooth steel against
the cold morning
sliding into a spot
amidst the silent
empty structure.
Three Echos
shuffling
stepping
and clicking
rough concrete
below
then planks
and tar.
Then the sound
of the journey
ceases
and the soft sensations
of water meeting wood
and salty wind clawing
loose clothing
remains.

3.
The shimmer of
a tiny sword
moving through
an envelope.
The room is dark.
The impression
of a fan turning slowly
overhead,
a green lamp
the only light
on an oak desk.
Moist tea saunters
about the room
losing it's
heat.

A shadow shifts
across a glass door.
A glance
to the fire escape.
Wood slides on
greased wheels
a gun shifted
a flask found.
Reading glasses
fogging.