A walk in the park
On a winter’s day
Still and grey
Illustrious dreams
Covered with red, wool gloves
Distracting from
What is truly at hand.
People they pass
With a glance or
Inquisitive gaze, or no matter
It matters not
For you are not there
But cloaked in a scarf
Speechless and
Protected from the
Elements of the day.
Full of realizations
And the rock, hard quiet
Of being the solitary figure
To feed your happiness
With half baked ideas
Stuffed in the spooley pockets
Of your long, smoke colored,
Tightly weaved coat
Picking at
Eroding pieces of the map to life
Until the stars crowd in
Taking the limelight
From the uninspiring sadness
Magically erasing those
Unnerving moments
When your thoughts marched
In a loud parade
Symbols clanging,
Tuba bullying its way through the
Sound barrier
Raucous and pandemonium
Stilling the hushed gasps
Of your pillows
Shock absorbing promise for tomorrow.
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