The air hangs heavy,
falling with the turning of the fan above,
round and round slow motion
the breeze not cooled,
just moving the invisible space
Soft music drifts from the kitchen,
the everyday notes of pots and pans
cling and clang
drowning out the old voice from yesterday
crooning there goes his everything.
What is the everything that would go I wonder,
as my skin sits moist with the humid air
and the jasmine that waves like a million hands
back and forth swaying
like a concert waiting to start,
the skies restless as the front moves.
We sit charging devices,
thoughts run amok aimlessly wondering
at the words that come,
and voices change tone
’cause ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone,
but I look beyond the doors
seeing no sunshine so it must be quite right,
and the stack of images sits on the table waiting
for the right day,
the right time to move on.
Gotta let it go,
feel the cleansing of the coming rain
in my mind before it exists above me,
I can feel it
washing away the endless thoughts
that hang like clouds
waiting for release.
Just another moment in this life observed
through song and elements
of the universe.
Image found on Pixabay.