ColorlessThe air was moist and held a calming smell due to the morning rain. A soft layer of fog touched fingertips to the ground, obscuring any attempts to see a distance. Gray silhouettes of trees hung near with branches stretching to the sky. They surrounded the lone cloudy outline of a weeping willow whose, unlike the other trees, outstretched it’s leaves to the ground. At first it was hard for the stranger to make out, but there it was, at the base of the willow tree, a lone man. The leaves of the willow concealed most of his gray silhouette, but the few branches betrayed his location where it could not reach and the leaves too small. The movements were soft and nearly silent, a flawless show of stealth from the stranger who ventured close to the lonely shadow but yet, with trained calm, the lonely man detected his presence and slowly opened his eyes, seeking what has sought him out. He was a mystery, to have caught the stranger in the act, and what was the stranger doing, acting so
Younger DaysI feel the rain on my skinA gentle touch, a cool caressMy mother calls me inI feel the hot summer daysThe smothering sunThe brightest raysOf a day just begunI was just a childSo much I did not knowI played a little wildWhere did those days go?I got older, I grew upI'm just a little busyA lot in my cupAh, I feel dizzySo much to doSo much to seeSometimes I don't knowWho I should beWhere is the smile on my face?Where is the laughter in the air?Where is that one little place?When everyone really did care . . . . .