Monday, February 23, 2009

About the weather. Yes, the weather

Last week, the weather turned really nice and warm after a week of cold temps here in my town. Every adult patient I talked to mentioned how nice it was and how they wanted to go enjoy it before it went away. The kids...not so much. Its like they didn't even notice that it was nice out. No big deal.

Got me to thinking how I never noticed the 'nice' day either when I was a kid. It didn't matter to me. I went out and played whenever I could. It was never too cold or too hot.

As an adult though (and I use adult loosely) we tend to notice these things. Maybe its that we can feel our lives being sucked out of us when we are at work all day and we don't have those breaks that bring us out there. We see what we are missing. We know that warm days in the middle of winter are generally rare and should totally be enjoyed.

Crap...this means I am growing up. bah!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They snuggled closely together
As they headed for the door
His hand holding her's
Her head subtly leaning into his shoulder
Such an unconscious move
An unlearned dance that comes so naturally
Wordlessly they step in
And on cue rotate the glass
Becoming one at the turn
When the open air hits them again
They emerge again as two people
But ever just as close



You never asked me to.
You never suggested I change.
But I wanted to be a better person
When I was around you.
For a while I was happier
Then I'd been in a long time...possibly ever.
But I have begun to wonder,
If it was all just an illusion,
Or was it your presence,
Or me alone at that time in my life?
Can I recapture who I became
During such a short time?
Can that blind optimism come back
And the simply happy person exist
Now that you are no longer part of my life
And all hope has been faded for so long?


As I sit to write my feelings and thoughts
Out on the paper before me
The music comes over my stereo
And I stop to listen to the words
And each song seems to say what I am thinking
I begin to fear that all I have to say
Has already been said
And said so much better then I
Could ever express myself
Is the possibility of me creating something new,
Of something that could mean something to someone else

Even a remote idea anymore
But just as each sunset is different
And inspires new feelings
Perhaps my quiet voice can find
A new way to express itself


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