songs…

growing out the tips of tree branches
rising up from the pavement after a rainy summer day
pouring in through colonial style windows
pelting car hoods in some fluke of a hurricane-esque tirade
winding through chain link fences
(hiding eternally from the scorn of weed wacker)
pummeling sargassum
circumventing skyscrapers aft of sunshine- creating all black wings
waving to the frequenter of coffee shops on week days
careening over the piled up tracks- all of flagler’s dying wishes
hesitating to cross the street because momma’s hands are both pushing a publix cart
rising above the fear of breaking down and stepping on the gas
undulating in the steam o’ertop a pot of boiling rice
jumping across tables and saying, son you love well, grandson you love well
waiting as the door closes (before locking) to make sure I’m out safe
running out an mp3 playing device so my ears don’t bleed from radio hits

it wasn’t until these songs jumped back on the mind’s radar did I make for my khaki pants, my grandpa’s shirt (again), and my quattro pro hat. It’s weird how perspectives grab you and tint your eyes until all are drab forces, all are simply leaves, waves, hail, and birds and you can’t hear what’s really going on, new days without the song are on par with impacted fingernails trying to scratch off an ingrown toe hair, don’t do it.