February 2022

old friend
where have you gone?
we used to enjoy each sunset
parked side by side on our trailers
and now you have gone
and I remain
still watching sunsets
never knowing what to expect

an underground river of tires
on their slow way to the sea
an alley with potential
that has known
more vibrant days

like a fox on the run
who found a place to hide
like a bird on a wire
who found a way to be free

or a Neanderthal in the cave of Maltravieso
who found a new canvas
perhaps a knight errant in the cave of Montesinos
who found nature replacing art

petroglyphs and petrochemicals
cover the walls of this cave
and like the ingenious hidalgo
I am often unsure in this place
whether or not I am dreaming

pastel
yellow
beneath
a pastel sky
the sharp colors
of electric lights cut
holes in ambience

when a roof slopes the ground
at what point does it become a wall?
in the space between a modern aesthetic
and more conventional architecture
what effect do these components
exert on human experience?
and what effect their confluence?

from this angle
in this light
the transition
feels almost natural
although natural
is an awkward word
in such a setting

it feels at least
not uncomfortable
or discomfiting in the way
that such an adjacency might
easily be imagined to be

the creek that flows
past the roots of the trees
towering in the upper left
and its soothing sound
is making a contribution
as I pass through this space
although inaudible in a photo
its presence cannot be dismissed

angular space
high contrast
shades of grey
blue sky on one side
and a blinding light

where the light is diffuse
nuance is observable
navigation is easier
more enjoyable

it is so easy to be
blinded by the light
as blind as I am
in darkness

wandering in shadow
tall buildings block the sun

stepping into the light
and finding it hard to see

when contrast is high
grey areas are few

I can see in the darkness
without the sun in my eyes

it is adjusting to the light
that becomes difficult

neutral zones allow
for optimal functioning

I find there is
something about
a blue sky in winter
that warms me inside
perhaps it is an association
with the longer days of summer
and the heat that builds up
from dawn to dusk
heat enough
to leave some
behind as residue
in my body’s memory
to tap into on a short day
in the middle of winter
waiting for those
long days to
return

just down the alley
behind the service station
every evening about this time
this building blocks the setting sun
but this light appears each time
reflected from somewhere
but light all the same

last night
I dreamed
it came back
way up out of reach
I’d have to climb the tree
or that rusty ol’ drain pipe
up the side of the house

it was bright this time
real bright
like the sun was inside it
but that don’t make sense
cause I could see the sun
up in the sky

still no sign of Charlie
not even in my dream
sometimes I don’t know
which one is the dream