we are a mere annoyance
to you travelers
who must coast down
to 30
while passing through
but in this world
of crime and fear,
our small town is a haven:
a place where we spend nights
at peace...
doors open,
eyes closed...
i am calm
cottonball cumulus clouds
paint pictures on the
pale blue canvas
overhead
soft winds whisper
through leaves of oak
and maple
and sunstreams dance,
my sole companions
in the waning day
i am content to write alone
in this tiny town,
feet fettered to the floor,
mind roaming free,
but soon i'll feel the urge
to rise,
unearthing roots
and obligations
as i continue
on my way
