post-audition bum monkey have been wandering for no good reason at all in the small town of chinley- and is experiencing entirely different winter than a year ago. instead of big rocky mountains, i am surrounded with gentlest hills. though completely a different place, with even a different clock running, there is that winter scent- icy, clear, hint of chimney smoke. it's a luxury and i am saturated with snow and grey-blues. in such pale palette, i think of various people and cant be helped but be really warmed by their vibrant presences. much grace and thanks for you all.
with no one watching, the birds are quiet,
perched on branches, holding onto every minute,
with their wiry claws, they await,
for the spring to return, as surely,
as much as cutting the northern wind is,
it must turn around and come back to south.
once straight to the sky, the green buds are now
curled with whimsical history of winter,
slightly irregular and brittle,
they are not the same, alas,
however displaying the advantage of-
living and existing,
simply through changing time.
eternal yet always renewed.
i wonder when the birds will be back
to this empty nest,
quietly awaiting for their return,
to fill the void with excitement of-
noise, flutter, life.
it's not really void then is it-
it's simply waiting.
as this empty school ground will be once more full
with sharp, bright children's laughter and tears,
as us, adults, will also go through another round of
laughter and tears.