In the moment

I  watch the storm clouds roll in,

lap the salty raindrops with my cupped tongue.

A voyeuristic wanderer my eyes bright with wonder

oblivious to the future unsullied by the past.

art by Sabi Sabi


69 thoughts on “Origin

  1. I have that same look on my face every time I look out a window. In a few more decades, I’ll not be sullied by my past or future, I’ll be organizing wheelchair races at the nursing home and paying grandkids to sneak me whiskey and chocolate into my room in between long restful naps. I’m so looking forward to that. I hope you’ll visit and I’ll tell you wild stories about Africa when I was a young fellow seeking glory. Another of your best work Rene. Your poems are like windows to me where I see relevance in amazing granularity.

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