Sand and Time

The clatter of crockery

Heady aromas 

Of greasy food and smoke

The hum of conversation

Mixed with Hank Williams

From the battered jukebox

In the corner

The portly cook

Dirty apron

Cigar stub dangling ash

Scooping hash and eggs

On to chipped cracked plates

Served by a tired waitress

With a look of life

Upon her face

I have been here a thousand times

In a thousand different places

And when I am gone

This scene will die

Buried by sand and time



Last post till September Heading To the Cabin
Hope everyone has a great and safe summer

My Vessel My Own

Sketches of your inner turmoil

Are drawn on the oceans

With invisible ink

My sight blinded

I do not sail 

A ship from your past

My vessel my own

You have never stood

Upon its deck

Felt the wind

On your skin
Letting its rhythm
Embrace the soul
My navigation charts
Show no route
To sail

Time

At night

Deep in thought

I feel

Your gentle touch

A subtle reminder

More time has passed

Than lays before me

Cherish those little moments

A little deeper

The rush to reach 

Soul soothing goals

Be tempered

Fully enjoy

Each that come to pass

Create full memories

To hold

As the clock ticks