Fine rain, drizzle,
A myriad wet drops
Separate the minutes
As they click by,
The wind leafing
Through the day.
Muffled murmurs
Punctuated by the
Mechanical rattle
Of messages circulating,
The electronic silence
Disguised by sound.
Eyes meet fleetingly,
Mind contact is
A speedboat skimming
The waves, the wake
An aftertaste or scent
To be forgotten.
Silent time is
As paper, pushed,
Given artificial life
And momentary meaning
As the wistful search
Continues.
28/7/87
Beelibee's Blog 