Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2017 04 17 Poetry, The Avenue April 17, 2017 another April day is upon us.

It’s amazing how so many things can happen around us without us even taking a single step, in any direction. The world has so much energy, in and of itself. Sometimes all you have to do is stop for a moment, and listen as the world keeps on moving all around you. One could almost call it magic. I’m sure some probably do.

I wrote an essay for my blog a few years ago about one day while I was sitting out back on the picnic table. For a brief moment, the world was silent, but those brief moments usually only last a short time, and wouldn’t you know it, as soon as it got quiet, from the distance a jet flew by high above me.

This piece I am submitting today might not be considered by some to be a poem, and to tell you the truth, I’m not too sure myself, but it is the submission of the day, by me. I didn’t know where it was going when I started typing it, but it turned out to be a story that took on a unique characteristic that found its place on the screen.

I have written similar pieces to this, but I’m not sure if those could be considered a poem either. I’m not up with genre specifics of writing, and either way I look at it, it is writing none the less.

I hope you all have a great week, and if you don’t know what to call your writing, just keep on writing anyway.

Take good care.



The Avenue

A waning sun hurries down behind the gathered building tops.
He pulls his coat collar up tightly as he leans back against a brick wall.
Taking one last drag from his cigarette, he flicks it out into the street.
A vehicle hurries by, pulling the discarded cigarette further down the road.
Gazing at his wristwatch, he shakes his head and begins to wind it.
He looks down the street at the bank marquee, then sets the watch.
As a chill runs down through him, he again pulls his collar tight.
He taps his right foot to an Allman Brothers tune playing in his mind.
A train whistle howls out into the evening as an engine pulls out of the downtown yard.
Reaching into his trousers pocket, he pulls out a piece of gum and slides it into his mouth.
From a distance, a dog barks out into the chilling evening air.
He glances again at his watch and continues to tap his foot.
The sky grows dim as the sun continues its decline.
His head rocks back and forth in time with his tapping foot.
The outside lights to the store across the street flicker, then go dark.
He looks up and down the avenue, then stuffs his hands down into his pockets.
Again, a dog barks out into the night.
The train calls out one more time as it pulls past the edge of town.
He folds his arms as his foot grows still.
A thousand images begin to race through his mind.
A bell attached to the storefront door rings out as the door swings open.
A single figure exits the store, pauses, and slowly begins crossing the street towards him.
He takes a deep breath, looks left, then right, and checks his watch again.
The evening seems to stop as he nervously glances down at his feet.
The figure stops in front of him and looks him up and down.
His right foot once again begins to tap down on the sidewalk.
With arms folded, the figure continues to stare at him.
As he bites his bottom lip, she steps towards him and punches him in the arm.

Leaning towards each other, they smile, lock arms and slowly make their way down the avenue.


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