yellow..
it's the light of the day..
just this one moment..
as I watch so high above the clouds..
floating as such..
observing behind the walls..
thinly pulled down shades..
telephone poles window chimes
an old fan drones away the hours..
my cat is eating some dry cereal..
the pain in my back reoccurs
even when I'm sitting down..
in a box of my own making..
it may be quiet for now..
I can still hear the sink dripping..
haunted really my hair stands on end..
I've no sense of time..
darkness approaches it's twilight time..
in the mountains the rains been falling now..
for what seems to be ages..
yellow turns to pink..
and gentle hearts that beat blushes..
cats walk on padded feet..
sometimes just barely out of reach..
and so my voice is heard in hushes..
beneath the crowded streets..
by Richard Allen Weber
copy rights reserved 2013
written September 21, 2013
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