a-choo.

Rest my head in blanket
of bitter cold and midnight dew.
The driveway dark and desolate,
time passes silent as a stranger.


In above clouds, couple miles way,
the serene sound floats down.
Sit friend, enjoy the irony
of soothing melody and dooming economy.

Step out of steel;
calls again through crisp bite
of winter chill.

We meet, like child to warm hug.
Weakening grasp,
ritualistic rhythm recedes
leaves behind merely stars.

Listen! the soft murmur;
steel locomotion travel.
Blurred every moment longer;
urban journey, the culprit.

Walk to stoop, no will to let go
of this note like serenity so shy,
thrice joined to ears to ebb into sky.

A linger at the door,
no want of mundande life,
a hunger for the tie-free ore
that spurs my friend on
in the night's lonely core.

Keep with, kindred sound,
a soul longs to stay.
Do not leave.
A hole of sensous beauty resonatng,
left behind as you away.
Leave what has no right to you,
for the soul cannot traipse after "choo".