Thursday June

Soft summer rain peppers the pavement.
Spongy straight steps.
Missing cleave and syncopation.
Carrying on regardless.
Not radical but functional.

A narrow, lean-to alley.
Parallel walls so close they can hear the bricks breathe.
Netted windows filthy with fumes.
A rubbery orchid in a garden of weeds.
The face of a tired maitre d' sucks on a cigarette.

Opening the same door; each time expecting a different answer.
Forget the question and the answer.
Carry on regardless.

Sky high in a distant place.
Not 'here'.
A place beyond touch, smell and taste.
Where senses not recognised are strongest.
Where excerpts of 'there' become a 'here'.
Where all parts merge and become whole.
Where doors lead no where and everywhere.
A place of shifting sands but solid ground.