Awakening

The vast morning air
smells like a wet cigar.

I can’t decide how far
I’ve come since the last time

the rising sun exploded
all over the page

of this most fortuitous age,
nor decide if my youth’s virile rage

has fuel enough to stay lit.
Forgive me – it’s been a minute

since I’ve given a shit,
one hot torturous minute,

and now I’m once again
in the thick of caring,

staring through the cracks
in the glass at the fast paced display

of motion and color,
fury and sound.

It surrounds and encompasses
my teetering will.

Hills roasting in the once-a-day heat,
speaking in tongues.

Dissonance leaking
through a hole in the world.

-r. miller

Advertisements

One thought on “Awakening

Ring the Call Button

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s