crowd stature

I guess I was listening to the Rolling Stones, though it’s more like that was the band that was playing. The song comes on, and the world trades in time and skins, all at once lost in a memory too vivid and close to be touched by word one. All the life spent since, a skip and a scratch. I guess we always are strangers longer, though it’s more that we never know. Your long shadow, my dissipation.

It’s in the blood, it’s in the numbers. It’s the misgivings of the moon and the vagaries of the weather. There when they all ascended, Gabriel’s horn and klaxon call. Hollowed out and heeling to, there where the day misplaced me. The last to know, the so and so.

There’s a rock by a trail head. There’s ravens in the sky. Wild Horses playing in my head. The blue on the bridge back home. There when the traffic slows up. The ache that took me there, the empty on the way.