Kept Ajar

Slow drift of thinning clouds,

layabout of last night's moon,

and morning gets up around

what the cornerstone started

with decades built out of plans

of the still standing architecture.

Pedestrian space with facades

mingling like treetop whistles

while popular hums and sighs--

from planetary us, daily regulars

fitting between some years--

bring about an age old question,

what's the matter with killing time?

As some songs never grow old.

Stand alone beyond even as there

are these efforts onto the unknown.

Just as it is with sky, sea, brevity,

resemblances shared in each other

and awash with singing greens

since 1973. Or any random year

to become a star for an emblem for

personal strangers to encounter.

Dispensable thoughts inside a world

that adapts through the way it exists

moment to moment, made up

amidst a presence collected behind

what otherwise propels the day

onward, concretely electrical and

prosthetic. Go on, make of it akin

to what's always here, possible.