So many songs,
Filling the air around my brain
With musical memories
Serving to sooth the anxieties of the day.

Not that there are any,
Only the ones I conjures
In the silence of detrimental thoughts,
The absence of easy going.

It’s the music,
The patter of running feet,
The sounds of leaves falling,
The guffaws around a coffee meeting table.

They all play well on the nerves,
Keeping the darkness at bay,
Letting notes massage an attitude
To keep the day light.

Pollock ice formations
Smeared by cold wipers
Have let the windshield
Decide my fate.

It’ll be the track today,
Turn after turn,
Lap after lap,
A cold and lonely run inside.

But I’ll be warm
Listening to some tunes
Sweating without the icey formations
Taking hold on my eyelashes.

Warm? Yes.
A little less tough? Maybe.
Whatever… It’s taper time.
I’m ready.

Ah, the shower,
That moment when oxytocin surged
Right after Tennessee’s dust settled…
In a truck stop of all places.

The hippie weekend was over,
Waking to a dripping tent was done,
Five dollars and fifteen minutes
Brought cleanliness to this worn soul.

It’s true, a saw buck can go a long way,
Never so true as it did on a Sunday after days in the dust
Being serenaded by the winds of change
And a lack of care for personal hygiene.

A Rubik’s cube puzzle of parking
Could not keep travelers land locked.
A rush to move up travel times
Could not prevent the risk of showering at a gas station.

Truth is it didn’t matter who went before,
The shower could have been a high school locker room,
But it wasn’t, it spurt a sort of water,
The kind meant to anoint those seeking relief from doubt and loneliness.

So it was back in ought-seven
When the foggy steam on the mirror and sweating tile walls
Gave clarity to this soul looking only for peace and renewal,
All that came for nothing more than a fiver in the greatest shower ever.

Here it comes,
I’d rather it colder,

Here it comes,
A run,
I’d rather it than what’s next,

The combo is best,
Snow and work,
They don’t play well together,
Leaving nothing but a day to run.

Watching these kids run
Without much reason
For me being there
Creates some distance on my part
From the purpose of their running.

They are so optimistic,
Hoping for the few spots available.
I’m grizzled, burnt, and apathetic,
Too bothered to care these days before tryouts.

Only one here tonight
Will be eligible for my team.
He’ll make it,
So will I
When the time is correct.

How about the ways that dreams
Demur to the reality that we live.

Dreams, the stuff of abstraction,
Giving way to the routine, the predictable.

Close your eyes, let the reels run,
Put to rest stasis, inactivity, all that is mundane.

Stay with the movie, the fantasy,
Right through the end credits before boredom returns.

How about the ways life conquers,
Defeating imagination, adventure, dreams.