Fluid

Poured off of gutters

ruts and rooftiles

into guitared experience.

We all want explanations.

Reveling in rain, it purifies.

I am left to dry

with time.

Presented with gifts,

something else inside of me

flies out.

I cannot contain what my fingers

put on paper

dreams.

A line quickly divides with motion,

emotion,

electrified

centrified

terrified

of things to come.

The rain ceases

and I, from this distance,

am dry.

This frenzy overcomes us all,

distracting our waters

paths and goals

into a candle

burned with intent.

The evening settles

with slight intonation.

Into gear

far far

near,

closes the rain

into my existence.

Being is truth

on a fresh cut lawn.

Faded

American flag lawn.