Standing Quietly With The Cool Air Creeping

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Standing quietly with the cool air creeping
Clickedy-clackedy of the mechanical keys
An accountability of evasive thought
Vulnerable notions of varying degrees
Looking for a grip of nostalgia
Something to shake loose my memories
Pulling tight my old man cardigan
Watching for the magic from within the trees

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Looking Life Dead In The Face

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Looking life dead in the face
Feeling the fresh seaside air
Never backing away from the cliff
Crumbling footholds not to share
Nostalgic tones deepening now
A wish formulated into a drop
Standing tall against the tide
Generous breaths until you won’t stop