"A Touch Of The Sun..." Poem

A lil 25+ mile walk on a 'way-more-than-merely-toasty' day. packs and gear, quick pace, a bit-higher-than-hills, desolate as hell... a good substitute for Hell - actually.

...Its a beautiful door, I thought - smooth-planed oak planks that had to be hand-rubbed, then seamlessly joined.  Topped by stained glass insets to act as sun-catchers, multi-hued hand-cut marble trim.  Brass edging and doorknob.

It opened smoothly with just the lightest touch and gentle push.

"Hello?"

I moved slightly forward and stood in the doorway... waiting -

"Anybody here?"

Silence - only the silence answered me.  And still I waited.  The sun at my back casting a shadow across the now seen hardwood floor of a hallway that disappeared into deeper shadow.  Dust motes dancing in the light and the slight draft of heat flowing into and replacing the coolness.

Glancing left - a small ante-room table against a cream wall... a cut-crystal vase standing empty.  Some indistinct framed 'somethings' on the wall - hidden by the now encroaching sunlight reflecting off their glass.  On the right, more frames - though somehow oddly-spaced in groups, meandering off into the dark.

"A Touch Of The Sun..."

A little tired
right now...

somehow a wee bit dry -
lips rough but sticking together
catching on each other.

Tasting nothing...

strange how you taste nothing -
and knowing what nothing tastes like
should be a memory
but it never is.

Noise -
indistinct noise,
voices?  Maybe...
but its all echoes
I'm hearing echoes
cascading cascading
endlessly jumbling
falling, rising, flowing
on-and-on...

Focus...
focus on
something
anything...
step-pivot-step
is how you do it they said
step-pivot-step - that's it
"the mind is a terrible place to waste"
no - that's wrong
its a THING to waste
isn't it?  isn't it?

I don't feel good right now
I feel
feel
a wee bit tired is all.

Chris

Where DOES a mind go...
when it isn't home?

Ya know?
...I do.

Author's Note

say as you feel

Reviews

[WindSong]

This poem speaks from your heart and soul with the glow and warmth of the sun, creating such beautiful words of poetry. You have a wonderful talent shown here in this work.

WindSong

[Crowley]

Caught in the ante chamber of your own mind....sometimes desperate feeling, sometimes calming, but most times strange as I can feel like a stranger to myself at times. Great writing. enjoyed this very much...and welcome, I love new faces. Emily sent me and I am very glad she did.