Inspiral Daze

Seams of life revealed

Tenaciously existing

but gone unnoticed

The tree cannot see:

reflected reality

becomes its own truth.

Wisps of easy jazz

float like ghosts through quiet lanes,

sneaking into souls.

Evening creeps closer:

Skeleton trees creak under

lead blanket of cloud.

Locked in my own world,

counting syllables until

I go slightly mad.

Coaxed up by weak sun,

snowdrops bow as if in prayer

for Spring to arrive.

Undefined by time

hopes and memories merge, old dreams

start to soar again.

Vapour trail daydreams:

imagination figments

drift in the ether.

The day appears paused,

heavens finally emptied.

A day of still life.

Despite biting winds

colours refuse to fade, leaves

hang on like milk teeth.