“Minutia”

insomnia finds me well, just past 1 a.m.
wellness is a state of being
not a safe haven
it is not held in secret in some trove of wonders
protected by ancient guardians of immeasurable wisdom
it exists only within
and can be found as easily as lost

this town was once familiar
it should be, as I’ve spent the majority of my years
watching from behind my curtained window
as it grew, changed, evolved
such is the manner of things
they grow
or fail and are soon forgotten
much like the youths I see
laughing loudly, as observed by others who
must be lead to believe that they are missing something
some joke, some bit of fun
some rung of social hierarchy to which they must aspire

though they would not believe it to be true
my dreams
like theirs now
were once so small
my fears, then
would not be unknown to them, now
but
as with all things
I grew

I became
more unlike them, and thus isolated
loneliness is not harmful, lest you allow it to haunt you
solace can be found in the quiet of loneliness
as can truth

it will be some time
until these young minds free themselves to imagine
that which exists beyond
for now, they ride, immortals
in the backs of pickup truck chariots
dashing shadows beneath a summer moon
racing to glory, to conquest, to bad decisions
champions of eternal youth
for now

but in time
the streetlights will watch them grow
they will move on
for career, for love, for worse decisions, or better
and the moon will watch
as each year brings to this town
a new crop of immortal youths
ready to seek their misfortunes
on these old, tired streets

as for me, I’ll allow the curtains to fall
and document my findings
to no one in particular
for posterity
for purpose
for the lack thereof
for I have grown, yes
but I am, beneath the stars, beneath even this young oak
quite small

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.

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