This should be the time
of deepening thought.
But the northern wind
wanted to join in and sent up a blur
of brain-dust obscuring distant
noise, as if dimming a light.

It is time for shining light
in forgotten places. That celebrated time
when foggy, distant
thoughts
race to mind…only to be blurred
by icy wind.

Friendly fire in the form of wind;
cold, from northern lights.
All those colors shifting and blurring,
confound even timely,
mature thoughts;
keep them at a distance

Often the distance
is so far away, wind
hitches a ride on thought
and only the speed of light –
surpasses the time
of arrival which, by then itself, is blurred.

With time and tears, all things blur;
become strangers in the distance,
where there are no reasons or seasons. No time
for goodbyes and the cold, gritty wind
erases all that is good and light
like a whiteboard full of thoughts.

A nightmare of thoughts
smeared, emotion-blurred
hard to find the light
in the vast distance
between two ears where whistling wind
makes its home most of the time.

Time confounds. Clear thoughts
should reign but wind up more blurred
and distant than foggy city starlight.

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Comments
  1. Steve says:

    That happens all the time and I think “that’s not what I was expecting” but when I read it back I think yea that’s OK and go with it anyway 🙂 I don’t think I’ve ever set out to write something specific and ended up with exactly what I was expecting – one of the things I love about poetry!

  2. Steve says:

    Brain-dust obscuring distant thought – love these words Gay !

    • Thanks, Steve! I have a terrible time writing in form. I like the challenge but the poems usually end up as something entirely different than what I was expecting when I set out.

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