Had a thought
While out on my walk
A thought to remember
A good thought
A productive thought
One that would make
My pen flow
Across the page
But alas
By the time
I returned to my desk
The thought
Was
Gone
My pen
Could not write
All that remained
Was the memory
Of having
A thought
– James Dubeau
Only passing time
Will let
Memories fade
There is no
Active technique
To push it out
To force it
Not to linger
Only time
Ticking by
Fades memories
Under a setting sun
Until the ink stained sheets
Are yellowed
With age
– James Dubeau
Cold December afternoon
Warmed by a risen sun
Tucked away
Somewhere
Behind growing cloud cover
And falling mist
Still
A few degrees above
Freezing
Moisture collecting
On horizontal surfaces
Each step
Taken with up-most care
Firm footsteps
With purposeful intention
Watching the ground
For icy patches
Treacherous misgivings
If you don’t travel
With precautions
You will
Get hurt
– James Dubeau
Thank you
Friends
For all you do
For me
Someone to talk with
Share ideas
Pains and joys
Someone to pick me up
When feeling down
Just your existence
Knowing you’re there
And that you’d be there
If I needed you
Means so much
To me
– James Dubeau
It was a gloomy day
Bright evening
Anticipated
Beginnings of highlights?
Maybe?
Only time would tell
And time did tell
In that fleeting way
Dripping
Like the light drizzle
Spitting
On my face
Worth it?
Maybe
We’ll see for sure
After a bit more time
To process
The beautifully
Gloomy day
– James Dubeau
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