Hanging On

Fingertips on wooden walls

Hanging on

Gravity creeps in

Pushing weight down to the tips of my toes

And I find myself

Sweating to the heat of the moon

And looking forward to the cool breeze of the sun

Mixed up thoughts lounge in waiting rooms

As waiting and wanting become mistaken for one another

Counting to ten

Lists roll through the currents of my mind

One for two

Two for ten

Breathing life into my fingertips

Helping me to hang on

Unemcumbered Go I

Change falls from pockets, upside down

But slowly moves through the threads of moments past

Gentle breezes follow, providing nudges forward from behind

A refreshing encounter, a history of gale winds in the opposite direction

.

Autumn leaves fall, oranges and reds whirl to a silent melody

Creating a familiar scent without words to describe

Muted to the ears, but not the touch

Layers shed, unencumbered go I

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