S P A C E S

I sit through spaces

with energies going around

when I squat with my thoughts among mahogany leaves falling

as I ward off a work feeling

and embrace the thoughts of my daughters.

I breathe through spaces

where I huff and puff from the cigarette smoke

or the debilitating smell of ale or caffeine

and the falling leaves hit the ground

scaring me of reptiles unseen and unknown in the dark

like the consequences of typed-up reports or proposals

or an answer to an email questioning decisions

that were mine to make

and only theirs to witness.

I live through spaces

without which I cannot move or think or feel

and what is left is an immobile feeling of wanting to move again

and not wanting to go anywhere unfamiliar.

To just stay where I can see darkness through the pathway

and hope that I can give light with the cell phone backlight

and the orange tip of my cigarette. Will that be enough?

Of course not.

My need is more than my means whether wants or should-haves.

I may have lost the courage to start all over again

when all over again may be too late for my age

or not.

"I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo