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Land of too many lakes Holding sitting water Glistening in sun the color of fresh egg yolk And marbled amethyst Swirled into the deepest ocean navy
Where are the clouds today? They but sit thinly in the horizon The air swells in exhale, a relieved sigh Not with the heavy mist that was so claustrophobic and drear
Where is the reason I left this place? The city is always slatest grey Oh but not today It flashes only what I missed The skyline smile I forgot whispering of what I regret
The rush sends me a memory Now a decade old Of when I was a younger man Relishing his fresh abode
New portrait of dreams Fresh paint on the canvas The muse straight as a hero's spine The Needle elegantly standing
You were my first Love You were my favorite You were where I belong And I gave you up in an instant
That is where the water crested Somewhere it came undone Now I'm left at the water's edge Wondering what had become
This isn't right But it is perfect The city shines in its Sunday best To greet old lover for a sunset
