Now

The room smells faintly of strawberry shortcake, the aroma lingering in the air-conditioned space.

The night light warms the room slightly and bossa nova music plays softly as I lay sprawled on my large cozy bed to an open copy of Esquire magazine.

"The Best Restaurants of 2010" - oh how much are we all missing out!

Faded yellow light

The night grows, spreading its influence over the harshed landscape. From the window I look out briefly, my gaze over the wide plains before me.

To my left the lamp let off the faint yellow glow - my companion for this worrisome night. Its warmth offers what little comfort it can muster, and I closed my eyes and steadied my thoughts, feeling my breath swirl in the winter cold.

The old radio let out a familiar tune and joins the lamp as my security blanket for this episode.

Too many reasons, yet none of them substantial; so many dreams, marred by the empty promises of sleepless nights.

But to ignite a frozen wink, and tell the world, "what now?"

Riposte

Waking moon,
Take the tides
And draw them close;
But remember;
Imprints on the sand remain
Long after you're gone.

One to calm the nerves

The rain falls
Like snowflakes, light
And carried by the
Swirling breeze.

Daintily they dance
Onto my face as I walked
Away from the angry
Clouds above.

Better you run,
Snowflake rain, chased
Down by the cloud's
Sturdier men.

The soldiers win,
Pinning down the dancers, as
Their blood spills, graying
The pavement.

And keeping dry,
A tabby lies, ignoring
The violence of the rain,
Slumbering sweet.