(June 16 2010)
Staring out the window at the tonal sky, glass in hand…
Waiting for that wrinkle to once again manifest;
A pinching of senses;
funneled through a thick-glassed bottom;
Modern nostalgia loops behind me,
While the wind whistles through the joint and tousles the curtains…
Too bright yet to fire up the candles;
So patiently I sit in the fleeting light, waiting to expand my art;
The latest contributor rather predictably tardy…
Past, present and future dance across aforementioned tonal sky… then coalesce,
Forming new thought patterns vaguely reminiscent of the before:
This night is an old friend…
Jon Mychal — Toronto/June 18 2010
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