a day in the life of piano monkey

in the early morning with delicate frost under foot i walked among the mountains and rivers in their twilight toward the long awaited slumber the loons are no longer calling about green needles now in raw sienna and burnt umber occasional sun breaking onto tenebrous mountain tails the last splashes of gold, payne grey and terre verte with the prosaic bow river bubbling about i was just a lost dot in the grandeur of the late autumnal poise soon this land will sleep blanketed in the woolly clouds withholding all lives within closer toward the quietness where one can hear a drop of a single snow flake i thought of many lives past and the cobwebs of history of memories, tarnished with patina of regrets, love, nostalgia as i must let go if i were to go on i wept along the river before it freezes into the long wintry silence trapping all my words within its taciturn solitude

after a night of somewhat low-quality sleep and aftermath of a performance anxiety, i set out for a walk this morning. no where in particular. letting my foot to land where they need to, as long as i dont fall of, it would be alright. and i thought perhaps i will head to the silence of the morning mountains, as it was set ablaze for no longer than 5 minutes, inverted cloud and fire. burn burn burn. while everyone's either burying their faces in the pillows for that extra 5 minutes of sleep or busy watching out for their own steps and graveyard holes of various sorts, the mountain burned, as if it laughed at the small troubles of mankind, always there, renewed by the morning. as the glory of morning will not be fazed by a simple dilemma about- daily musings. somehow monkey ears needed stimulation not rest. quick turn to the south. following the lowland trails, down and roundabouts the curved paths, now covered with fallen leaves, like the golden brick road to oz, but even more ...