the hand of nature over time makes all things rough around the edges
the words that we use can lose all meaning when we’re trying to be cute
off in the distance the future waits – but doesn’t give up its secrets
when there is a break in the clouds, some will believe the storm has passed by
normal is a word that denies everything we know about change
sit with me a while we’ll tell each other stories and we’ll understand
a deleted scene of a stranger’s life plays out in lost groceries
it’s on or it’s off authoritarianism mounted on the wall
even if the storm passes me, it still affects someone i may know
maybe a surprise maybe it’s more of the same that is tomorrow
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