a blazing cherry. smoke drawn, french inhaled, blown away.
and the roaming sputter of living water.
the biting chill of early january.
why don't people do this?
sit around and chain smoke?
a knowing, tight-lipped smile; the rising curve of crow's feet around small, calm blue eyes.
a slow, steady drag of marlboro.
i think people get so busy chasing success; a good grade, a good job, a good home. boyfriends, girlfriends. people get so busy chasing happiness, finding god and salvation. ikea furniture, a good christian heart beneath medically enhanced breasts.
the mid-morning sun, as brilliant are it's golden rays, does little to fight the nipping cold, and she is starting to shiver. she quit smoking last spring, and her winter coats aren't what they used to be.
having become so focused on the objects, they forget entirely about the scenery, and they can't see the forest through the trees.
a slow, steady drag of marlboro.
why don't people do this? just sit and listen and watch the scenery. take a break from the objects, take a break from the maddening chase. i don't know. maybe i'm wrong. but this is where i feel most calm; this is how i'm happy.
a stunning smile parts frost-shaken lips.
when i think of you, i think you're much more part of the scenery than an observer of it.
rising crow's feet around small blue eyes.
a steady drag of marlboro; smoke drawn, french inhaled, blown away.
a fading, dying cherry.
and the rustling sputter of living water.
the biting chill of early january.
and the spreading warmth of a mittened hand laid softly upon a shivering knee.
naturally, though, i'm happiest sitting and listening -- watching the scenery with you.
