“Moving Out Day” by Danny Gessner (12-27-2012)
There were no leaves when everyone left.
They fell far down at our last respite,
still haunting the ground with a crunched litter
rather than pastel-painting the sky.
The trunks and bare branches still stand,
albeit alone and aloof -- barely swaying,
they still jut against the curved horizon.
A dusty chill crept up the hill
under brittle sunlight that wouldn’t warm
the empty roads. At our hillcrest
the only sound was a hushed whistle
of lake-driven Northern wind.
It beckoned them to leave, leave, leave --
so quietly they all packed
a week’s worth of waste
into unchaperoned sedans.
The villagers scurried and fled.
Rushed “home” for the feeding troughs
to “feel” the spirit of commercial bile
(on every channel, now in HD)
overwhelming their nagging deadlines --
at least for another nine days.
I’ve stayed a day too late --
seen what rational minds would flock to avoid.
My perch wasn’t desolate
but I found no solace in
the trifle of tobacco I clung to.
So I tossed half-a-butt off the railing
and retreated back into the
manufactured electric-grey warmth
to compose my over-thought thoughts
before my brain went for another swim.
As I sit back inside, remembers flood in.
My thoughts pervade themselves,
but there is no nature to reflect on.
The only good stares are inside of my eyelids.
We’re not meant to be awake while inside.
Ceiling pondering doesn’t haunt as nicely as the balcony.
It doesn’t force me to think,
it merely allows safe passage.
Inside it’s the people who pervade your thoughts
They become a part of you
you can’t let their useless hashtags escape
But there isn’t any comfort in the warmth.
Not alone. Not with a still-breathing brain.
Stale ceilings and time-bomb ticking.
No inspiration --
an anxiety attack waiting to pounce.
The outside has its pleasure; you think rather than talk.
You forget and then think again.
Thoughts and forgets.
Your mind staggers freely.