reading proverbs   thinking of a friend 

listening 

to the sounds of loneliness

will i ever know the peace 

she knows

~

the air is intensely clear   

come winter

i will remember this day

turn my face to the sun

seeking

 ~

here the icons   glazed and fired   

and the saints   haloed

are worshipped   tell ancient stories   

like the proverbs   primal   true   

false   distant

~

this arid landscape invokes thoughts

of green hills

chill and wet with dew

i don't want to be alone anymore

not here   not there

~

thoughts without context   gathering clouds

dark and ominous   

drift and dissipate with the heat of day

a few drops in the dust as evidence 

a dry rain