The tumbled geometries of the cityscape
bask in pools of light–cool blue, warm golden;
the tenderest top leaves of the young pear tree
adjacent to the rooftop deck slow dance
to the softly swirling autumn breeze
on a still-too-warm October evening,
and azaleas bloom out of season.
Another birthday; I’ve rolled a double five.
I guess it’s good enough to be alive,
not important to understand the reason,
but to take the air and just keep breathing;
treat others kindly but do as you please;
don’t be afraid to take your one big chance.
The Boss says open doors don’t mean the ride’s free;
to your history you may be beholden,
but the road itself is your escape.
Copyright 2017
T. Allen Culpepper
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