The kaleidoscope of events
was the life that passed
well planned strategies of life
that were expected to occur,
have fallen short of dreams
that were held while still
a bright eyed youth

To have thought that achievements
would come by simply working hard
then to realize
dreams are but made of vapors
which seem to pass like clouds
all that's left behind is the reality
of standing in the light

craps shoot at thought café

in backroom
at the thought café
game of craps
was ongoing for as long
as I recall.

most of the regulars
were there with
their money folded
long ways between
middle and ring fingers.

action was a little
slow, and regulars
were looking for new
meat.

they looked my way,
and I shook my head, no
and said, “I don’t gamble.”

“why are you smoking that
damn pipe and drinking
cabernet?” they asked.

I suddenly came to be
me
an individual
some say unique among myriad
white brethren

Having no religion or direction
I drift in a seeming random route
only connecting with others
by short -lived accident
from which I rebound

The short duration of

my brief lifetime

spirals slowly

inevitably

down

Until at last my beauty crashes
as I join my fellows who fell before me
and mingle with others once unique
in an ephemeral blanket
of a southern snow fall

which melts

eyes

eyes hold you there
applause subsides
auditorium empties

another night
another show
whispers heard backstage

stage door creaks on
rusted hinges --
opening, allows players' exit

alleyway awake with footsteps
summer moths flutter naked light-bulbs
on aging brick walls -- casting eerie shadows

shuffle a dozen shoes
to street beyond
on the way for a coffee or drink

aura of performance just played fades --
just ahead of lightning and thunder
actors reach the street