Aviary

The bells toll proudly, thru the way in which a street is hazed, flagged with fables, salted from grace. I travel, celebrating the minutes of light, and as I widen my revelations to dress the horizons, as I drive, I spark a bevy of memories, of faults, of cheers, of yesterday, and towards the secrets and whispers that float a star trail apart in the times that lazed here, now grazing there with no matter in between. The sea whistles a poem to be unraveled by someone of a caliber well known to me, as I had reached the waterfront, and the stares mawkishly mock the wind rippling auroele in the spots of the sea below a golden djjay shade, the electricity of stillness disturbed by the play of weather. I had stopped to witness, but now I carry on again, I continue my attempts to attain an attestment that states years out of my aviary, after the climate that dangles unfazed and perfumed by a spectral mist, that I drearily found as I was missing a path to escape, as I was searching for a spine to wear and travel further. The ecstasy of adventures drips thru my hands, amid my trials to reject or admit my admiration to the confessions of my greater half, my better mind, my sweeter heart that awaits all the way to the top, or discovering it all the way back home, which I have left to run. I drive even now, a little slower, slower.

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Watt

It's all a matter of rust and shine, to serve a distinction between to have and to have not.

20 thoughts on “Aviary”

      1. I’m preparing to fly the coop, in a coupe,
        over the cuckoo nest, and far away . . .
        and bust out of the big city aviary.
        Next month I’m driving the 3,741 kilometres
        from Melbourne, north to Darwin, going thru
        the red centre of Australia.
        I drove the Route 500 through to the north
        of Scotland, in the summertime with my
        bonnie lassie. Stopping only to sample the
        local whiskey. It was O.K. because they
        only let you drive 40 miles per hour 😎

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    1. Yes, it is. Also, a lot of your comments are in my spam folder instead of regular comments. I don’t know why. Don’t worry though I will approve you at every turn. 😊

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  5. This reminds me of my drives with my girl in the evenings. We like to drive down to the lake by the house and she always says mom take the long way. She said the other evening that this was her favorite time of the day, and they are mine as well. I do drive slower home. Because illustration Watt. Love the feeling in this piece.

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